


Tacky Shoes and Movie Tickets

by DeathBelle



Series: Shopping Mall Shenanigans [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Background IwaOi - Freeform, First Meetings, Fluff, I'm used to a lot of explicit tags and I don't know what to do here, Kissing, M/M, Wingman Kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-01-29 01:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12620340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Akaashi deals with a lot of stupid people.He isn't yet certain if Bokuto falls into that category.In which Akaashi is the manager of a movie theater, Bokuto is the new hire at the shoe store downstairs, and the two of them get along much better than Akaashi could have anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've written a lot of angst lately, so this is just some cleansing fluff. 
> 
> I'll update on the first Saturday of each month. There will be another part to this series that will focus on iwaoi, and _maybe_ a kuroo-focused one after that. But for now, I hope you the first installment of bokuaka!

Akaashi Keiji was a good person.

He didn’t consider himself a _great_ person, by any means. He had a tendency to judge others based on their actions and behaviors, a general disdain for idiocy, and an irrepressible penchant for snark.

However, he kept those judgments to himself instead of spreading them like gossip. He dealt with those he deemed inadequate with as much grace and patience as possible in an attempt to spare their feelings. He also only used his innate talent for snappy sarcasm in extreme circumstances.

This happened to be one of those circumstances.

“Sir,” said Akaashi, attempting to maintain some semblance of professionalism. He was a good person; he shouldn’t have to deal with this. “I’ve already informed you that the six-thirty showing is sold out. We have another one starting at seven forty-five, or you can-”

“I heard you,” the man said, speaking loudly to drown out Akaashi’s calm explanation. “I want to speak to a manager.”

Akaashi suppressed the curl of satisfaction in his gut as he said, “I am the manager.”

The man clearly thought Akaashi was lying.

Akaashi didn’t care.

“Then you should be able to do something about this,” the man said. He leaned closer. “I’m half an hour early. There should be no reason I can’t get a ticket. Just make room or something. It’s not rocket science.”

Akaashi felt his attitude sharpening like honed steel. “Actually, sir, it goes beyond the range of science for you to assume that I can somehow sell you a ticket to a seat that is already filled. The showing is sold out. There are no seats. Rocket science isn’t applicable. In fact, anyone with a first-grade education should be able to understand.”

The man gaped at him, mouth moving around silent protests. His face turned red and he slapped a hand against the counter between them. “What’s your name?” he demanded. “I’m calling your boss.”

“Akaashi Keiji,” he said. “Would you like me to write that down for you?”

The man turned on his heel and stormed off. The people in line behind him stared, wide-eyed, at the display.

Akaashi waved forward the woman who was next in line. When he spoke, his voice was smooth and unruffled. “Good evening, ma’am. What can I help you with today?”

The line tapered out about half an hour later. The vast theater lobby was scarcely populated. Most of the current showings had already started, and the next one wasn’t for another forty-five minutes. There would be a lull of peace, which would allow Akaashi to finally take the break he’d been chasing for the past two hours.

He stepped from behind the counter with a sigh of relief. Popcorn crunched beneath his shoes and he pretended not to notice. 

“I’m taking my break, Yaku-san,” he said, as he passed the far end of the counter.

Yaku looked up from the bundle of yen he was counting, the bills arranged in neat piles.

Yaku was a manager, too. He worked the earlier shift, though their schedules sometimes overlapped midway through the day. “Of course, Akaashi,” he said. “Take your time.” He returned to counting as if he hadn’t been interrupted. 

Akaashi walked past a gaggle of teenage girls who were gushing over the movie they’d just seen and exited through the front doors of the theater. The hallway beyond dropped off into a pair of escalators. Akaashi stepped onto the revolving stairs with a sigh. His stomach growled. He’d eaten lunch at around noon before he’d come in for his shift, but whatever nutrients he’d absorbed from that meal were long gone.

He could have feasted on popcorn like many of the other workers tended to do, but he preferred not to clog his arteries with copious helpings of butter at such a young age. He at least wanted to live to see the age of forty.

The descent into the food court was like stepping through the gates of hell. Even at the theater’s peak hours, the sheer volume of people there was never anything compared to the contained chaos of the food court. 

When Akaashi had first started working at the theater in the mall, he’d been extremely anxious when venturing down to the first floor to get lunch. He’d daintily dodged the people around him, fearing that he would accidentally walk into someone. 

Now a year had passed, and when he entered the crowd, he simply kept walking. He assumed people would move, and usually they did. 

He waited in line with relative patience, trying to ignore the loud voices and raucous laughter that pressed against his ears like static. He didn’t understand why everyone had to be so noisy. If everyone would speak at a normal volume then they would be able to hear each other without yelling. It was ridiculous.

Akaashi reached the front of the line, accepted his boxed sushi with a polite thank you, and stepped aside to scan the nest of tables.

His search began at the northwest corner and gradually traveled inward, skating across the condensed crowd for a glimpse of familiarity.

He zeroed in on his target and wove his way through the tables, taking care not to knock against the back of anyone’s chair. 

When he was two tables away from his goal, Kuroo looked up from his food. He raised a hand to wave Akaashi over, which was unnecessary. Clearly Akaashi had already seen him, and it wasn’t as if he needed an invitation.

Kuroo Tetsurou worked at the mobile repair shop on the second floor. Four months ago Akaashi had taken his phone there to get a glitch fixed. When Kuroo realized Akaashi worked at the theater upstairs, he’d repaired the phone at no charge, insisting that “mall slaves” needed to stick together. Akaashi hadn’t argued. It had saved him a good deal of money.

Sometime after that they’d become casual friends, and usually had their meals together when their breaks overlapped. Akaashi didn’t mind Kuroo. He was a little annoying at times, but overall he was bearable.

Akaashi started to take his usual seat across from Kuroo, but hesitated when he realized there was already someone sitting in it.

He paused, wondering if he should choose a different table.

The guy in Akaashi’s seat turned to look at him.

“Yo, Akaashi,” said Kuroo. “Drag a seat over. There’s room for all of us.”

Akaashi forced his gaze away from the unfamiliar face and seized a spare chair from a neighboring table. He pushed it to the edge of Kuroo’s table and placed his food in the spot that the two of them cleared for him.

“Akaashi, this is Bokuto,” said Kuroo, gesturing toward his tablemate. “He’s my friend from way back. He just got a job here. It’s his first day. Bokuto, meet Akaashi. He works at the theater upstairs.”

“Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi. He popped the lid off of his food and broke apart his chopsticks. 

“You too, Akaashi.”

Bokuto grinned at him, and Akaashi’s chopsticks hovered over a piece of sushi as he was briefly distracted. Bokuto’s smile was so bright that he felt momentarily blinded.

Akaashi blinked, then peeled his eyes away and started on his food.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day,” said Kuroo with a grin. 

Akaashi shrugged. “I’ve just had to deal with idiocy, as usual.”

“Tell me about it,” said Kuroo. “Some moron came in an hour ago and swore their phone was broken. The battery was just dead because they hadn’t charged it in three days. I swear to god.”

Bokuto laughed. The sound was as bright as his smile.

Akaashi smiled a little despite himself. He glanced up at Bokuto, only to find that Bokuto was already looking at him. “Where do you work, Bokuto-san?”

He sat up a little straighter. “I work at the shoe store just over there,” he said, pointing unhelpfully into the distance. He seemed to realize the futility and instead scrabbled at the lanyard dangling from his neck. “Here, look. They gave me this cool name badge.”

He leaned forward and shoved it at Akaashi. It was a laminated card with the name “Bokuto Koutarou” printed on it, flanked by a picture of Bokuto with a wide, cheesy grin. 

“Congratulations on the job,” said Akaashi.

“Thanks!”

Bokuto looked as if he wanted to say more, but let the ID fall back around his neck and looked down at his food instead. He seemed subdued, which was a strange contrast to the energy that burst out of him whenever he spoke. It was a bit of a contradiction.

Akaashi supposed it would be polite to ask him some questions and make him feel more comfortable, although he should be comfortable, anyway, if he and Kuroo were already friends.

Akaashi took a bite of sushi, mulling it over as he chewed. Before he got a chance to decide, another chair was dragged to their table with a shriek of metal. 

Akaashi’s eye twitched and he stared flatly at Oikawa, who slumped into the chair and half collapsed on the little table space that remained. 

“I can’t do this,” said Oikawa, the side of his face pressed against his forearm. His voice was muffled a little by his sleeve. “It’s too much. I just can’t handle it.”

Akaashi stared at him. Then he looked to Kuroo, who’d quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” said Akaashi.

Kuroo smirked. “I have a good guess.”

Bokuto blinked at all of them, confused.

Oikawa heaved a sigh and sat up straight. “I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong in my life for the gods to torture me like this.”

“I’ll be glad to make you a list,” said Akaashi.

“You whine too much, you’re a little narcissistic, you make fun of my hair,” said Kuroo, ticking off the items on his fingers as he spoke. “You make life a living hell for that poor kid that works for you, you got that girl fired last month, you-”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” snapped Oikawa, dropping his air of misery. “Even you have to admit your hair is awful. I’m just pointing it out. Speaking of hair.” He glanced to the side, where Bokuto still watched the exchange with moderate interest. “Who’s this?”

“This is my friend Bokuto,” said Kuroo. “He’s working here now. Bokuto, this is Oikawa. If you ever see him, walk in the other direction.”

“I’m a lovely person,” said Oikawa, with venom that didn’t match the declaration. 

“In your own head, maybe.”

Oikawa glared, then promptly dismissed him. Instead he focused on Akaashi. “Aka-chan, you care that I’m suffering, right?”

Akaashi’s face didn’t change. “Am I supposed to?”

Oikawa heaved a sigh and sank back into his chair, arms crossed.

There was a beat of silence, and then Bokuto said, “Uh, is something wrong?”

Oikawa seemed to come alive again. “There is, actually. Thank you for asking.” He swept his gaze around the table, as if informing all of them that they were expected to participate in the conversation. “There’s a new security guard who started last week. I can’t deal with it.”

“What’s wrong with him?” said Akaashi. He knew Oikawa was going to talk about this anyway. It was best to ask the proper questions and speed things along.

“Everything,” said Oikawa, somewhat bitterly. “Everything is wrong with him. He’s so rude all the time, and he’s not nice to me even when I’m being friendly, and it’s like he doesn’t even want to _talk_ to me.”

“Oikawa thinks he’s cute,” said Kuroo.

“I do not!”

Akaashi interpreted the unnecessary heat of the denial to mean Oikawa was lying.

“You’ve tried talking to him?” said Akaashi.

Oikawa sighed, and seemed to deflate a little. “I’ve talked to him. I’ve flirted with him. It isn’t working, Aka-chan. He has to be straight. That’s the only logical explanation. How could _anyone_ attracted to the male species in _any_ capacity resist _me_?”

Akaashi and Kuroo shared a look. 

“Why are you upset then?” asked Akaashi cautiously. “If he’s straight then he’s straight. There’s really nothing you can do about it.”

“Not true,” said Oikawa. “There’s plenty I can do about it.”

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up.”

Oikawa looked at him with a sense of superiority that made Akaashi want to punch him. “You haven’t seen him, Aka-chan. You couldn’t possibly understand.”

“He hasn’t seen him,” said Kuroo, “but he’s about to. Hey! Over here!”

He waved to someone across the crowd, and Oikawa whipped his head around so fast that he was in danger of snapping his neck.

“Where?” he said, voice quiet but sharp. “Where is he?”

The answer came in the form of Kuroo’s barking laughter. Slowly, Oikawa turned to glare at him. “I hate you, Kuroo.”

“Love you too, Oikawa.”

Oikawa was not amused. He stood with a huff and marched away. 

“Is he okay?” said Bokuto.

Akaashi glanced up at him. Bokuto had been so quiet that he’d nearly forgotten he was even there.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Kuroo. “He’s overly dramatic. Hey, isn’t your break over, Bo? I think your hour is up.”

Bokuto checked the time on his phone, then nearly dropped it in his haste to stand up. He barely grabbed his chair before it toppled over. “Shit! I’m gonna be late!” He turned to dash away, but clumsily stopped and turned back. “Bye, Akaashi! It was nice to meet you!”

“Goodbye, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto gave him another sunny smile before merging into the crowd.

Kuroo snorted and stacked Bokuto’s discarded trash on top of his own. “If he lasts a week it’s going to be a miracle.”

It wasn’t a kind thing to say, but Kuroo didn’t say it with particular malice.

“He seems nice,” said Akaashi, scooping up his last piece of sushi.

“Yeah, Bo’s great,” said Kuroo. “He’s just stressed out today. I’ve never seen him so quiet. Usually he never shuts up.” He reached out to collect Akaashi’s empty box and added it to his trash pile. “I’ll have to take him out for drinks this weekend to unwind. You should come with us. You spend too much time here. Live a little.”

“I have to work this weekend,” said Akaashi. “Thank you for the offer, Kuroo-san.”

“You’re twenty years old,” said Kuroo, “not forty. Embrace your youth.”

Akashi stare was flat. “Thanks for the advice.”

Kuroo grinned at him. “Anytime. I’m always here to provide guidance to the less fortunate.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes and poked his chopsticks into Kuroo’s stack of trash. “Is your break over?”

“I’ve got about ten minutes. Want to go up to Oikawa's store and mess with his displays?”

Akaashi considered, then shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

  
  
  
  
  
The following day was better. None of the other employees called in, which meant they had a full team at work. Sales were good, but the tickets went steadily instead of selling out in intense bursts. Akaashi didn’t have to deal with any stupidity during the entire first half of his shift.

All things considered, he was in a fairly good mood when he migrated down to the food court for his meal break.

The crowd wasn’t even as dense as usual, and Akaashi moved around with ease. He picked up a serving of curry rice, the warmth seeping into his palms from the bottom of the bowl, and turned to survey the sea of tables. 

As usual, he started his scan with the northwest corner. Kuroo was nowhere in sight, and Akaashi wasn’t really surprised. Kuroo had worked the past few days; he was probably due for a break. 

Unfortunately, all of the empty tables were near the center of the cluster. Akaashi didn’t like venturing that deep into the chaos of the food court, but he supposed he had little choice.

He had only waded past the first few tables when he heard his name, shouted loudly enough carry over the overlapping buzz of multiple conversations.

He turned, eyes catching on an arm waving in the air for his attention. Despite his surprise, Akaashi reset his destination.

Bokuto beamed at him from a small table, still waving even when Akaashi stopped in front of him.

“Hey, Akaashi!” he said. “You can sit with me if you want! Kuroo’s not working today.”

Akaashi couldn’t think of a reason not to. Bokuto had seemed nice enough. It was better than sitting alone at one of the center tables, anyway.

“Sure. Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

“You remembered my name!”

Akaashi raised a brow at him. “We just met yesterday.”

“Well yeah, but you probably see a lot of people. I thought you might’ve forgotten.”

The conversation lapsed as they ate. When Akaashi glanced up, Bokuto quickly looked in the other direction, as if he’d been watching him.

“So, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi. He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “How is your job?”

Bokuto lit up. “It’s great!” he said with a good deal of enthusiasm. “They have this whole back room full of shoes and stuff and they’re letting me organize it. My boss only told me I messed up like four times today, so that’s not bad, right?”

Akaashi personally thought that sounded like a lot of mistakes, but he said, “I’m sure you’re catching on quickly.”

“And the best part,” said Bokuto, “is that they gave me these awesome shoes. Look at them!” He pushed back his chair and plopped his foot onto the table, right beside his food. “Aren’t they the best?”

Akaashi tried not to cringe. The colors were so bright he thought his eyes may be bleeding. 

Bokuto plopped his foot back down on the floor and scooted close to the table again. “I didn’t even have to pay for them! My boss said they’d just take a little out of my check every week.”

Akaashi frowned at him. “Bokuto-san, that means you’re still paying for them.”

“Well technically, I guess,” said Bokuto, unfazed, “but it’s not like all at once. I haven’t even gotten a check yet so I won’t even miss it. And then when they’re paid for I’ll be getting even more money. It’ll be like a pay raise!”

Bokuto’s optimism was admirable, if a little idiotic.

“What about you, Akaashi?” said Bokuto. He pronounced Akaashi’s name slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid to say it wrong. “Your job must be really cool, too!”

“It’s okay, I guess,” he said. “I’ve had worse jobs.”

“Do you get to watch free movies?” asked Bokuto, leaning forward slightly.

“I can get free tickets, yes.”

“So cool!” said Bokuto, bouncing a little in his seat. “I love movies. I wish I could get free movies.”

Akaashi took a bite and chose not to reply.

Bokuto was a little more intense than he’d let on the day before. He was louder, too. Kuroo must have been right; Bokuto had been suffering from nerves on his first day of work.

Akaashi wondered if he should’ve sat by himself after all, but then Bokuto grinned at him again and something about it made Akaashi feel warm.

“What kind of movies do you like?” said Bokuto. “I like all kinds, but action is my favorite. I like scary ones, too, but sometimes I scream by accident and Kuroo makes fun of me.”

They discussed movies for a while and Bokuto gushed about the ones he most wanted to see. Akaashi mostly listened, but when he did comment, he received Bokuto’s unwavering attention. 

Bokuto wasn’t the type of person that Akaashi would choose to associate with, but he wasn’t bad. He wasn’t nearly as annoying as Akaashi had expected.

When Bokuto’s break time drew to an end, he gathered up his trash with a slight frown. “Guess I have to go back,” he muttered, more subdued than he’d been during their entire meal. “Sorry, ‘Kaashi.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Bokuto-san.”

“Thanks for eating with me, though,” said Bokuto, perking up a little.

“Anytime.”

It was a cursory response, but it made Bokuto smile. He went on his way, and a few minutes later, Akaashi returned to his shift as well.

He felt a little lighter for the rest of the day, as if he’d gained a degree of buoyancy from the close proximity to Bokuto.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

  
  
  
  
  
Akaashi was off work for the next couple of days, a break that was much needed. He spent the free hours trying to catch up on the homework he’d neglected for the past week. By the time he was scheduled to go back to the theater he was almost glad to be returning to work. Selling tickets and listening to customers whine and listening to _employees_ whine was all draining, but it was preferred to hours of reading, writing, and studying.

A sudden onslaught of customers left Akaashi taking lunch much later than usual. He figured he would be left to eat alone, and though he usually didn’t mind, he sort of wanted to know how Bokuto was doing at his job. Kuroo had said he didn’t think Bokuto would last a week, but Akaashi thought he hadn’t been very serious. He thought once Bokuto caught on he’d be an acceptable employee. He had a good attitude, which Akaashi had found was the biggest indicator of success in customer service.

Not surprisingly, when Akaashi went to lunch, Bokuto was nowhere in sight. He’d probably missed him, if Bokuto was even working that day. 

He did, however, see Oikawa pouting at a table alone. 

He carried his food over and sat down, and had about thirty seconds of peace before Oikawa started.

“Do you think I’m attractive, Aka-chan?”

Akaashi looked blankly up at him, his mouth full of sushi.

“I am, right?” said Oikawa, flicking at his bangs. “I mean, I always thought I was. Am I?”

Akaashi swallowed and said, carefully, “Why are you worried about this, Oikawa-san?”

Oikawa sighed. There was a plate of food in front of him, but it was mostly untouched. He prodded at it with a chopstick as he said, “Everyone has always liked me. I’m likeable. I’m attractive and I’m likeable.”

Akaashi took another bite and waited. He felt it was too dangerous to say anything when Oikawa was like this. One wrong word and Oikawa would pop like a grenade.

Oikawa stabbed at his food with more force and said, “Would you date me, Aka-chan?”

Akaashi raised a brow. “Are you asking me out?”

“Hypothetically,” said Oikawa. “Would you hypothetically date me?”

This was one of those situations where Akaashi knew he should lie. He should say what Oikawa wanted to hear, spare his feelings, and let everyone walk away happy.

He knew what he should say, but he just couldn’t make himself say it.

“No,” said Akaashi. 

Oikawa looked like he’d been slapped. “What? Why not?”

Akaashi took another bite and chewed with exceptional slowness. By the time he’d swallowed and leaned forward to speak, Oikawa was on the edge of his seat, waiting.

“You’re not my type,” said Akaashi. “No one could argue that you’re attractive, Oikawa-san. However, you try too hard to be what people expect of you instead of just being what you are.”

He expected some sort of indignant outburst. He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if Oikawa had slapped him and stormed away.

Oikawa just sat back in his chair and stared down at his food, brow furrowed, mouth curved downward in a frown.

The rest of their meal passed in silence. Akaashi wondered if he should say something else to Oikawa, to try and smooth over the damage he may have caused.

Before he could do so, Oikawa stood and gathered his uneaten food. “I’m going back,” he said. His voice was gray, bland. “Bye, Akaashi.”

He walked away, and Akaashi didn’t try to stop him. 

Akaashi had only told the truth. If Oikawa was reacting badly, that was his own problem. 

Still, Akaashi felt a little bad as he left the food court a few minutes before his break ended.

Instead of returning directly to the theater, he detoured to the west corridor. It was composed mainly of mediocre clothing shops. The more high-end stores, such as the one where Oikawa worked, were on the upper floors.

Akaashi stopped in front of a display of shiny, multi-colored sports shoes. They were gaudy and ridiculous, and Akaashi was pretty sure they were the same ones that Bokuto had shown off a few days before.

He slipped through the door of the business, dodged a pair of loud children near the entrance, and did a quick scan. He saw two employees working the sales floor, both of them talking to customers about shoes. Neither of them were Bokuto.

He looked toward the register where a man idly flipped through a display of shoestrings while he waited. There was no one behind the counter, and Akaashi took a step back in preparation to leave, when someone burst through the doorway behind the register.

“I found them!” crowed Bokuto, obviously pleased with himself. He slid a box across the counter to the waiting man, who accepted it with a gruff thank you.

“You’re welcome!” said Bokuto brightly, as the man turned to walk away.

Akaashi approached the counter and stood quietly while Bokuto entered something into the store’s computer.

“Good evening!” said Bokuto, eyes still on the screen. “Can I help you with something?”

“No thank you, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto looked up, golden eyes reflecting confusion. When recognition shifted into place, his smile was divine.

“Akaashi!” he said. “You’re in my store!”

Akaashi’s mouth curved into a controlled smile. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you want to buy shoes?” Bokuto leaned forward, palms braced on the counter. 

“No, thank you.” Akaashi had bought new shoes a year and a half ago. He thought he could manage for another few months. Besides, when the occasion to purchase new ones did arise, he was fairly certain he would choose a store with a more modest selection. “I came to see you, actually.”

“Me? Really?”

“Yes.” Akaashi dipped a hand into his back pocket and withdrew the tickets he’d acquired earlier that day. “I got these from work. They’re for that new movie that comes out this weekend, the one you said you wanted to see.”

Bokuto’s eyes were wide as he reverently took the tickets. “You got them for me?”

“They were free,” said Akaashi. “It isn’t a big deal.”

“Thank you, Akaashi!” said Bokuto. He moved forward, as if he was going to hug Akaashi, but the counter bumped against his hips and he took a step back. “You’re so cool!”

“Like I said, it isn’t a big deal.”

“You gave me two though,” said Bokuto. He squinted at the tickets, as if there had been a mistake.

“You don’t seem like the sort of person who would enjoy watching a movie alone,” said Akaashi. “I thought you could take Kuroo, or one of your other friends.”

“Akaashi, you’re so nice!” 

Akaashi thought back to the devastated look on Oikawa’s face when Akaashi had spared no consideration for his feelings.

“Not really,” he said. “I have to get back to work now. Have a good evening, Bokuto-san.”

“You too, Akaashi. Thank you!”

Akaashi left the store with his hands in his pockets, a little satisfied that he’d made Bokuto happy. He shouldn’t have been, really. It seemed that it was no great feat. A lot of things probably made Bokuto happy.

Akaashi made it about eight steps down the hallway before Bokuto shouted his name.

Akaashi turned, dodged a woman who nearly walked into him, and found Bokuto waving him down from the front of the store.

“Do you want to go with me?” said Bokuto, loudly enough to be heard across the small distance and a good deal beyond. “To see the movie, I mean?”

Bokuto probably felt obligated to invite Akaashi because he’d given him the tickets.

“You can take one of your friends,” said Akaashi. “It’s fine, Bokuto-san.”

“You’re one of my friends,” said Bokuto. 

Akaashi was a little taken aback by the declaration. They’d known each other for less than a week. Akaashi had known people for years that he still didn’t consider friends.

Sensing his hesitation, Bokuto quickly said, “If you don’t want to it’s okay, though.” He meant it, but he seemed to droop a little as he spoke.

“I’ll go,” said Akaashi, before he had time to think it through.

“Yes!” said Bokuto. He thrust the tickets in the air, as if they were a trophy. “It’ll be so much fun! I’ll try to catch you during break tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure, Bokuto-san.”

“Okay! Bye, Akaashi!” He waved one more time before ducking back inside the store.

Akaashi turned and merged with the moving crowd, still trying to figure out what he’d just agreed to.

He didn’t dislike Bokuto. Seeing a movie with him probably wouldn’t be all that bad. It would be strange, though, because Bokuto was so vocally interactive. He couldn’t quite envision him sitting still and quiet through an hour and a half of film.

He supposed he would find out for himself.


	2. Chapter 2

On Wednesday afternoon, Akaashi sat behind the counter at the mobile repair store, his cell phone being poked and prodded by a focused Kuroo.

“I don’t see anything really wrong with it,” said Kuroo. “It’s just running kind of slow. When was the last time you restarted it?”

Akaashi just stared at him.

It was answer enough.

Kuroo sighed and switched the phone off. “You’re as bad as some of these idiot customers who forget their lock codes. I thought you were smart, Akaashi.”

“Intellectually, perhaps,” said Akaashi. “Technologically speaking, not so much.”

Kuroo put the phone on the counter between them, probably to give it a break from constant usage. “You on your way to work?” he said, eyeing Akaashi’s uniform. It was khakis and a nice polo, not much different than what Kuroo was required to wear.

“Yes. I have to stay late tonight.”

“Sucks for you.”

Akaashi shrugged. He didn’t mind working late when he didn’t have to get up early the next day. None of his classes started until around ten o’clock for that reason.

Kuroo settled back in his chair and took a quick scan of the store. The crowd was light, and the few customers present were already being assisted by his coworkers. He dismissed them and looked back to Akaashi. “So Bokuto said he has a hot date this weekend.”

Akaashi kept his face neutral. It wasn’t surprising. Bokuto probably went on a lot of dates. 

Akaashi wondered what Bokuto’s type was. It was probably tall, athletic girls with long legs and long ponytails who had smiles to rival his own. 

“Is that so,” said Akaashi blandly.

Kuroo nodded. “Apparently they’re going to see some action movie that Bo’s been raving about.”

Akaashi frowned. Had Bokuto decided to use his spare ticket for someone else, after all? He could have at least let Akaashi know so he wasn’t still planning to go to the movie. 

He glanced up to catch Kuroo’s smirk, and suddenly realized that he was being played.

“You’re not funny, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo cackled so loudly that everyone in the store looked in their direction. Akaashi thought Kuroo’s laugh was so hideous that the onlookers probably thought it was the sound of a large animal being slaughtered.

“Sorry,” said Kuroo, catching his breath. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “Your face, Akaashi.”

Akaashi wasn’t amused.

“He invited me to go with him since I gave him the tickets,” said Akaashi. He reached for his phone and turned it back on. “He was being polite.”

“Is that what you think?” said Kuroo. Akaashi didn’t look at him, but he could feel Kuroo’s smirk anyway.

Akaashi stared at his rebooting phone screen and ignored him.

“Tetsu-chan!” Oikawa’s voice cut through the relative peace of the store. 

Akaashi turned on his stool to see Oikawa rushing around the tables, agilely dodging customers that looked at him with a measure of confusion and concern.

It was the first time Akaashi had seen Oikawa since the incident in the food court, during which he was fairly certain he’d done some damage to their tentative friendship. He expected to be ignored. Clearly it was Kuroo that Oikawa had business with.

To his surprise, Oikawa’s face brightened considerably when he caught sight of Akaashi.

“Aka-chan!” he said, rushing closer. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. 

Before he could ask, Oikawa seized Akaashi’s face and popped a kiss against his lips.

Akaashi almost fell off of his stool.

Oikawa stepped back, still over-excited. 

Kuroo was laughing so hard that he was in danger of cracking a rib.

Akaashi scrubbed the back of his sleeve against his mouth. “Oikawa-san? Are you experiencing some sort of mental breakdown? Should I call someone?”

Oikawa didn’t seem offended. “Aka-chan, you’re the best! I mean, I’ve absolutely despised you for the past three days, but it turns out I actually love you.”

Akaashi just stared at him. He’d been joking about the mental breakdown, but every time Oikawa opened his mouth it seemed a little more likely.

“Oh my god,” panted Kuroo. He had collapsed on the counter. His face was red and there were tears in his eyes. “Oikawa, you should have warned me. I would sell my left kidney to have that on video.”

“I have a date!” said Oikawa, ignoring him. “With the security guard! Can you believe it?”

It wasn’t really that impressive. Oikawa had dates all the time.

Rarely, however, was he this excited about it.

“Congratulations?” said Akaashi, still confused.

“It’s all thanks to you, Aka-chan!”

He surged forward again, and Akaashi raised an arm to shield his face. This time, though, Oikawa wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s shoulders and squeezed. 

“You gave me such good advice!” said Oikawa. “It was extremely rude, because you’re a very mean person, but it was still good. I owe you, Aka-chan.”

“Uh. You’re welcome,” said Akaashi, the words breathless beneath Oikawa’s tight embrace.

Oikawa released him and stepped back to beam at Kuroo. “I made him _smile_ , Tetsu-chan. It was amazing. His smile is the most beautiful thing.”

Kuroo snorted. “You’ve got it bad, Oikawa.”

Oikawa sighed, wistful, and didn’t argue. “We’re going out to dinner. I wonder if he’ll hold my hand?”

Kuroo and Akaashi shared a look. Kuroo was amused, and Akaashi was moderately sickened.

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hold your hand, Oikawa-san,” said Akaashi, because he felt that he needed to say _something_.

“I hope so,” said Oikawa with a sigh. “I have to go. I’ll see you guys later!”

He bounded off, followed by a collection of confused stares.

Akaashi wiped his mouth again and turned back toward Kuroo.

“You’ve touched the enchanted lips of Oikawa Tooru,” said Kuroo with a grin. “Now you’ll fall in love with him. It’s inevitable.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “If anything, I’ll die in my sleep. I’m allergic to drama. He’s probably poisoned me.”

Kuroo gave an ugly laugh, and Akaashi smiled. 

  
  
  
  
  
Akaashi wasn’t a fan of movies. For the most part they were dry and cliché, and he could usually predict the ending after the first thirty minutes. 

Still, he wasn’t exactly reluctant to go sit through a movie with Bokuto. 

It was surprising that Bokuto had even invited him. It might have been because Akaashi had given him the tickets, as he’d told Kuroo. He doubted it, though, because Bokuto had said they were friends. 

That was what confused Akaashi the most. He didn’t tend to make friends easily. People were often rubbed the wrong way by his personality, on the occasion that he actually went through the trouble of speaking to anyone. He and Kuroo got along well because Kuroo wasn’t offended by Akaashi’s bluntness. Akaashi wondered if Bokuto would still want to be his friend if he accidentally said something mean.

“Akaashi!”

The shout echoed along the corridor. Bokuto waved as he approached, as if Akaashi could miss him.

He was waiting just outside the doors of the theater, a few paces away from the escalators. It was where they’d decided to meet, and Bokuto was right on time.

“Hello, Bokuto-san.”

“I can’t wait for the movie!” said Bokuto. The tickets were in his hand and he brandished them at Akaashi. “It’s going to be so awesome!”

“I heard it has good reviews,” said Akaashi. He’d actually looked into the film earlier that day because he had only the vaguest idea what it was even about. It was something packed full of action and violence and acts of bravery. Akaashi was typically bored by such screenplays, but it sounded like something Bokuto would enjoy. “Would you like to get some snacks?”

Bokuto brightened even more at the mention of food. “Yes! I love movie food. Since you got the tickets I’ll get the snacks, okay? Whatever you want. It’s only fair.”

His enthusiasm was, in equal measures, exhausting and endearing.

A few minutes later Akaashi headed into theater 4, accompanied by a large drink, a popcorn bucket the size of his head, and a pouting Bokuto.

“I told you I’d buy it,” Bokuto grumbled, dragging his feet a few steps behind Akaashi. “I wanted to get something for you since you got something for me.”

Akaashi just looked at him. He was a little unsettled by the sudden shift in Bokuto’s mood. It was strange, watching someone so vibrant become so downtrodden in a matter of moments.

“It’s fine, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi. He didn’t make a habit of handing out reassurances. It wasn’t in his nature. Still, he didn’t like this unhappy version of Bokuto. He preferred the excitable one. “The snacks were free. It wasn’t as if I spent my own money.”

When Akaashi had approached the counter, a step behind an absolutely thrilled Bokuto, Yaku had given him a look that was both subtle and speculative. He’d handed over Bokuto’s order free of charge, but Akaashi knew he would pay for it the following day when Yaku interrogated him about the incident. Even he knew that, to the objective observer, it was possible to mistake this outing for a date, especially since Yaku was aware of Akaashi’s sexual preferences. 

“But I wanted to buy you something,” mumbled Bokuto. 

Akaashi suppressed a sigh. He scanned the half-filled theater, visually picking out the available pairs of seats. “Where would you prefer to sit, Bokuto-san?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

The response was a grumble, and Akaashi reminded himself that he was a good person; a good, calm, _patient_ person. 

“Alright,” said Akaashi. His voice sounded normal; not exasperated at all. “Let’s sit over here, then.”

He led the way to a pair of seats near the middle of the theater and sat, balancing the popcorn carefully in his lap. Bokuto flopped down in the seat beside him and frowned down at the floor. 

Bokuto looked different without his usual smile.

Akaashi didn’t like it.

“Are you planning to share this popcorn?” said Akaashi. “I can’t eat it all myself.”

Bokuto chewed on his straw and murmured something Akaashi didn’t catch.

Akaashi took a breath, held it for a moment, then said, “Thank you for inviting me to come see this movie with you, Bokuto-san. It was quite thoughtful.”

Bokuto perked up, the straw slipping out of his mouth. “You’re welcome, ‘Kaashi.” He almost smiled, then sank down a little in his seat. “You probably won’t even like it, though. You’ll think it’s boring and wish you hadn’t come. I’m sorry, Akaashi.”

Akaashi closed his eyes, just briefly, to collect himself. If he’d been in this situation with anyone else he would have taken that opportunity to point out everything wrong with Bokuto’s reasoning and potentially tear him into emotional shreds in the process.

The only reason he didn’t was that the person in question was Bokuto. It didn’t seem that Bokuto was behaving this way to receive attention, or to try and get Akaashi to feel sorry for him. It seemed to be a genuine reaction and Akaashi wondered for the first time if Bokuto had a firm grasp on his emotional stability.

Instead of responding with scalding bluntness, Akaashi again opted for reassurance.

“I can’t say whether I’ll enjoy the movie or not,” said Akaashi, “but I do know I won’t regret watching it. You’re good company, Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi didn’t hand out such compliments to his closest friends; it was unheard of for him to say such a thing to someone he hardly knew.

Still, the way that Bokuto’s smile swelled back onto his face made the sacrifice worthwhile.

“Do you mean that, Akaashi?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” said Akaashi. 

“I’m glad you think so!” said Bokuto, a touch too loud for their surroundings. Akaashi supposed his volume was okay since the movie hadn’t yet started. “Sometimes people think I’m a little annoying.”

“You don’t say.”

“You don’t think that, do you?” asked Bokuto, his eyes softening with sudden vulnerability. “Do you think I’m annoying, ‘Kaashi?”

Akaashi sighed. “You’re easily excitable, but I don’t think you’re annoying.”

Bokuto’s smile was so bright that Akaashi saw stars. Even when the lights went down and an eager hush fell over the theater, he still saw those perfect teeth shining in the glow of the wide screen.

“Thanks, Akaashi,” said Bokuto in a characteristically loud whisper. He reached over, took a handful of popcorn, and inelegantly shoved it into his mouth.

Akaashi didn’t know how someone so borderline obnoxious could, at the same time, be so engaging. It was quite frustrating.

He sat back, munched on his popcorn, and waited for the movie to start.

It wouldn’t have been Akaashi’s first choice of films. A new drama had been released that depicted the struggles of a family in the Taisho period, based on a true story. He’d been eyeing it for a while and still planned to sit in on a showing whenever he got the chance.

Despite his lack of taste for loud and violent action movies, Akaashi couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy himself. 

The plot was dry and predictable, the explosions and gunfights were excessive, and the acting was, for the most part, subpar. All of that was mildly irrelevant, however, in comparison to Bokuto’s excitement.

“ _Akaashi_ ,” hissed Bokuto. He leaned close, wide eyes still glued to the screen. “Did you see that? That was so _awesome_!”

“I saw, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi, keeping his voice to a whisper. 

“The guy in that car must’ve, like, _exploded_.”

Akaashi was fairly certain that the man in question, who happened to be one of the main characters, was going to make a dramatic comeback sometime in the next hour. He’d learned through experience that no one appreciated his eerily accurate movie predictions, so he simply said, “Yes. It was a very large explosion.”

Occasionally Bokuto would bounce a little in his seat, hands clamped on the armrests. His arm was so close that Akaashi could feel his body heat, even through his sleeve. 

Half an hour later Bokuto leaned over again to quietly exclaim, “ _He didn’t die_! Can you believe that? Wow!”

Akaashi’s voice was flat as he said, “Yes. Such a surprise.”

Bokuto was too enthralled to pick up on the sarcasm.

When the movie dwindled to a close, Bokuto seemed as if he was exerting extreme effort not to applaud.

“That was so awesome!” he said, as they rose from their seats. His voice was a touch louder than usual. Akaashi thought maybe Bokuto had spent too much time sitting quietly and had to burn off all of that extra energy. “And the end was awesome! That huge fight was just- just-”

“Awesome?” Akaashi supplied, tossing the mostly empty popcorn bucket into the trash can as they exited theater 4. He tried to ignore the scatter of debris that the other customers had left. Tonight, it wasn’t his problem. 

“Yeah!” said Bokuto. “Thanks for the ticket, ‘Kaashi! And for coming with me, too. I’m glad you did.”

“So am I, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto beamed, as if Akaashi’s words were a prize.

They walked side-by-side out of the theater. Akaashi didn’t see Yaku anywhere, which was fortunate. He did, however, see Konoha eyeing him from behind the ticket booth. He pretended not to notice and intentionally avoided eye contact as he and Bokuto stepped through the automatic doors.

When they were a few paces away, Bokuto stopped. He shifted his weight from foot to foot a bit awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey, uh, ‘Kaashi? Do you maybe want to see another movie together sometime? We could see something you like instead.”

Akaashi imagined Bokuto sitting through a movie of his preference.

He would probably fall asleep in the first five minutes.

“I doubt you would appreciate my taste in films, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi.

Bokuto frowned, his brow furrowed. “Oh. If you don’t want to that’s fine then. I just thought I’d ask.”

Akaashi studied him, trying to determine the source of Bokuto’s disappointment. He should be relieved that Akaashi didn’t require him to attend a subjectively boring movie in return. Akaashi was being considerate.

“I’ll just, uh, go then,” said Bokuto, scuffing the toe of his gaudy new shoe against the floor. “Thanks for hanging out with me, ‘Kaashi.”

“A new horror movie comes out next weekend,” said Akaashi, the words escaping him before he could think them through. “It’s the one about the alien invasion. Didn’t you say you like horror movies?”

“I, umm… yeah, I do.”

“I can probably get tickets,” said Akaashi, “if you’d like. Unlike Kuroo-san, I promise I will not laugh if you scream.” 

Bokuto’s face lit up like a summer sunrise. “You mean you want to see a movie with me again?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Bokuto bounced once on the balls of his feet. “Awesome! Even if you can’t get tickets, I’ll buy them for us. I got my first paycheck yesterday!”

“Congratulations,” said Akaashi, “but I’m sure I can get them, Bokuto-san.”

“I’m just saying. I want to do something for you too, you know?”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Yeah, but still. Hey, could I maybe get your number? If you don’t mind. If you do it’s fine, you don’t have to.”

He almost seemed to be blushing a little, though Akashi couldn’t imagine why.

“Of course,” said Akaashi. “As long as you don’t feel the need to send constant cat memes like Kuroo-san, I don’t mind at all.”

Bokuto promised that he would never send cat pictures, having also been on the receiving end of Kuroo’s lame jokes, and tapped Akaashi’s number into his phone with a grin. 

“Thanks, ‘Kaashi,” said Bokuto. “I’ll text you so you’ll have my number too.”

“Alright.”

“I had a good time. Thanks for coming.”

“I’ll see you later, Bokuto-san.”

“’Bye, Akaashi!” Bokuto waved widely and took a few backward steps before he turned to walk away. 

Akaashi watched him go, then glanced over his shoulder to find Konoha staring at him through the glass wall of the ticket counter. Konoha gave a smarmy grin and Akaashi stared blankly back. 

Akaashi didn’t mind Konoha. He was a good employee and excelled at whichever duty was assigned to him. Still, Akaashi had a lurking feeling that Konoha and Yaku were going to be gossiping about him by the following morning.

If he returned to see another movie with Bokuto the following week, the potential gossip would be even worse.

Akashi supposed he would have to suffer through it. It wasn’t worth distancing himself from Bokuto just to spare his own hardly existent pride. It appeared that he and Bokuto were friends now. There was nothing wrong with seeing movies with his new friend.

Akaashi’s phone buzzed in his pocket. His first assumption was that Bokuto had sent the promised text, but when it continued vibrating he realized he was receiving a call. The screen displayed an unfamiliar number.

Akaashi had a fairly good guess who was calling.

“Hello?” he said, turning his back on Konoha and walking a short distance away to take the call.

“Akaashi? It’s me. Bokuto.”

“I assumed.”

“Hey, do you like ice cream?”

Akaashi raised a brow, though Bokuto wasn’t present to witness his skepticism. “Occasionally.”

“Do you want to go get some?”

Akaashi glanced around. He didn’t see Bokuto, though he couldn’t have gotten too far. “Right now?”

“Yeah! Only if you want to, though. I really want to get something for you.”

“You don’t have to do that, Bokuto-san.”

“I know, but I really want to! But only if you want to.”

Akaashi’s mouth twitched. “Ice cream would be nice.”

“Yes! I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? I’ll wait for you in front of the food court.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon then.”

“Okay, bye!”

The call ended, and Akaashi couldn’t help but smile as he walked toward the escalators.

  
  
  
  
  
Akaashi didn’t often give in to the temptation of sweets. He preferred to save his money for necessities and he knew sugar was not good for his health.

Bokuto had no such reservations.

“And then he served a ball into my face,” said Bokuto, as he scraped the bottom of his large bowl. “We’ve been friends ever since. It’s a good thing Kuroo doesn’t spike as hard as I do or it would’ve probably broken my nose. Do you play sports, ‘Kaashi?”

“I’m not very athletically inclined,” said Akaashi, which was only partially true. He’d done well on his middle school team, but since the beginning of high school he’d focused more on schoolwork than extracurricular activities. 

“What do you do in your free time, then?” said Bokuto. He watched Akaashi closely, as if genuinely interested in his answer.

Akaashi shrugged one shoulder. “Not much, I suppose,” he said, looking down at his empty bowl. It was half the size of Bokuto’s. “When I’m not at work I’m usually studying.”

“What are you in school for?” said Bokuto with that same intense interest. 

“I’m studying chemistry.”

“That’s so cool! What are you going to be?”

“If I keep my grades up I hope to get accepted into pharmacy school next year,” said Akaashi. “If not then I suppose I’ll have to plan something else.”

“I’m sure you’ll get accepted,” said Bokuto with a ridiculous amount of confidence. “You’re really smart, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi appreciated the sentiment, even though Bokuto didn’t know him nearly well enough to judge whether he was intelligent or not.

“What about you, Bokuto-san?” said Akaashi, deflecting the attention away from himself. “What are you studying?”

“Oh, I don’t go to school anymore,” said Bokuto with a shrug.

Akaashi frowned. “Then what do you intend to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“For your future,” said Akaashi. “What do you intend to become?”

Bokuto blinked at him. He looked a little confused. “I don’t really know what you mean. I work here, remember?”

“Yes,” said Akaashi, “but I mean what do you intend to do later, as a real job?”

Akaashi realized, only a heartbeat after the words had left his mouth, that he probably shouldn’t have said it like that.

Bokuto’s frown sat unnaturally on his face. His eyes skated to the side, away from Akaashi. “Oh. I, uh… I don’t know. I’m just happy to have this job, you know? Since I dropped out I don’t really have a lot of options. I’m, uh… I’m kind of dumb, I guess.”

A touch of hot regret burned at the back of Akaashi’s throat. The sensation was foreign. He didn’t feel it very often. 

“I should go,” said Bokuto, standing abruptly. “I think Kuroo maybe wanted to go out, so I should call him or something. Thanks for hanging out with me, ‘Kaashi. I’ll see you later, maybe.”

Akaashi should have apologized. He wanted to, desperately. He didn’t like the look on Bokuto’s face or the slump of his shoulders. 

Yet, when he opened his mouth, he simply said, “Goodbye, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto walked away and Akaashi hated himself a little.

He’d done the same thing to Oikawa. That had worked itself out without the need for Akaashi’s faltering apologies, but Akaashi wasn’t so confident that the same would happen in this situation. Bokuto didn’t seem quite as resilient as Oikawa. 

It also didn’t help that Akaashi was already a touch more fond of Bokuto than he’d ever been of Oikawa Tooru. 

He thought about going after Bokuto, or at least calling him, but feared whatever he said would make things worse. Usually Akaashi was good with words; crafty, even. 

And sometimes his own brusqueness betrayed him.

He collected the trash off of the table, deposited it into a bin, and hoped Bokuto hadn’t been too wounded by his carelessness. 


	3. Chapter 3

Akaashi didn’t see Bokuto the next day, or the one after. He wasn’t sure if their schedules were unaligned or if Bokuto was avoiding him.

Either way, he felt worse and worse about what he’d said.

It had been exceptionally rude. 

Akaashi had been born with a certain amount of privilege. He had wealthy parents, a good upbringing, and a relatively high level of intelligence that he mostly attributed to genetics. He had specific goals set for the future, and because of his personal privileges, he felt he would have little trouble achieving those goals if only he was willing to work toward them.

He hadn’t stopped to think that others – namely Bokuto – may not have been quite so fortunate.

Akaashi had never considered himself a pretentious individual, but his opinion of himself had gone sharply downhill over the past three days.

He considered calling Bokuto on more than one occasion, but ultimately decided against it. If Bokuto was, in fact, avoiding him, he didn’t want to make it more difficult.

A resolution, whether good or bad, was inevitable. It came on the third day after the movie. 

It was a slow Monday at the theater, and Akaashi took his meal break on time. He was relieved, partly because it allowed him to escape Konoha’s smug smiles, and partly because this was the time when he was most likely to run into Kuroo. 

If Bokuto was still upset over Akaashi’s carelessness, Kuroo would know.

Akaashi descended to the food court, and forbade himself from scanning the tables before he got his food. It would seem too desperate, and he wasn’t allowing himself to hope that Bokuto was present. He was going to search for Kuroo, and only Kuroo.

When Akaashi’s food was in hand – sushi again, one of his most common selections – he turned slowly and started his routine scan of the tables.

Kuroo’s chaotic hair was at the edge of the seating area. Akaashi took a single step in that direction before he noticed Kuroo’s dining companion. He only saw the back of the man’s head, but Bokuto’s hair was unmistakable.

He wondered if he should sit somewhere else, to spare Bokuto the trouble of his company. Perhaps it would be in everyone’s best interest. The situation would certainly be awkward for Kuroo, too, though Akaashi was certain that he would side with Bokuto. They might actually ban Akaashi from the table.

As Akaashi debated, Kuroo raised a hand and beckoned him over.

Bokuto twisted around in his seat, eyes finding Akaashi for a brief second before he turned back to face Kuroo.

Akaashi took a breath that smelled of fried rice and wove through the maze of tables.

When he sat in one of the vacant chairs, Bokuto threw a quick glance in his direction before lowering his head and focusing on his food.

“Hey, Akaashi,” said Kuroo. If he was aware of Bokuto’s feelings – and Akaashi was certain he was – then it didn’t seem to bother him. “How’s it going upstairs today?”

“A little slow,” said Akaashi. He pulled at the edge of his sushi box, then abandoned the effort and clasped his hands together in his lap instead. “Hello, Bokuto-san.”

“Hey, Akaashi,” said Bokuto in a low voice, not looking at him.

Akaashi looked to Kuroo, who watched Bokuto with a frown.

“Bokuto-san?” said Akaashi. He twisted his fingers together in his lap, picking at his nails. “I would like to apologize for what I said to you on Friday.”

Bokuto blinked up at him, clearly startled. “Huh?”

Akaashi tried to recall the apologies that he’d mentally rehearsed over the past few days. “I was quite disrespectful. I shouldn’t have made assumptions about you. Success can’t be measured on an objective scale. It is subjective to each individual. My idea of success is not necessarily the same as yours.”

Bokuto just looked at him. Akaashi sighed and tried again.

“It doesn’t matter what sort of job you have,” he said. “As long as you are happy doing it, that’s what matters. I shouldn’t have acted as if it wasn’t as important as any other career. Also, you shouldn’t call yourself dumb, Bokuto-san. Clearly you aren’t.”

Bokuto stared, wide-eyed. Then a smile cracked his face, teeth peeking between his lips. “You don’t think I’m dumb?”

“Of course not. Educational aptitude isn’t the only measure of intelligence. Just because you didn’t do well in school doesn’t mean you can’t excel in other things. I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.”

“That’s okay!” said Bokuto brightly. “You don’t have to apologize. I just thought you wouldn’t want to hang out with me anymore because I’m not as smart as you. And that would suck, you know? Because you’re really cool.”

The fact that Bokuto still liked him enough to say something like that only made Akaashi feel worse. 

“You’re cool too, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi, reflecting Bokuto’s own sentiment.

It was the correct thing to do. Bokuto’s smile was blinding. He turned it on Kuroo and Akaashi blinked a few times, as if clearing sun from his eyes. 

“Did you hear that, Kuroo?” said Bokuto. “Akaashi thinks I’m cool!”

“I always thought you were a good judge of character,” said Kuroo, tilting his head toward Akaashi. “Clearly I was wrong.”

“Hey!”

Akaashi finally popped the lid off of his sushi. “I got tickets for that movie this weekend, if you’d still like to go.”

“Of course I want to go!” said Bokuto loudly. “It’s going to be awesome!”

“Are you talking about that stupid alien movie?” said Kuroo. He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. It appeared he’d taken his break earlier than Bokuto; his plate was already cleared. “Oikawa won’t shut up about it. You should take him with you, Akaashi. He probably thinks aliens are romantic. I bet he’ll even kiss you again.”

Akaashi’s flat stare was his only response.

Bokuto had more of a reaction.

He sputtered through a mouthful of soda, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep from spewing it across the table. When he finished choking, he said, “ _Oikawa_?”

Akaashi’s shoulders stiffened. He didn’t know if Kuroo had mentioned Akaashi’s sexual preferences to Bokuto. Bokuto didn’t seem like the sort of person to be judgmental about homosexuality, but Akaashi had learned through personal experience that it wasn’t always easy to determine who would and would not develop a deep and sudden hatred when that information was revealed. 

He couldn’t decipher the look on Bokuto’s face, but he hoped it wasn’t disgust.

It couldn’t be. Bokuto was friends with Kuroo, after all. Kuroo liked women, but he also had a healthy appreciation for men. If Bokuto didn’t mind that, then surely he would be okay with Akaashi.

“Yeah, you know Oikawa,” said Kuroo. He waved a hand, oblivious to Akaashi’s internal chaos. “Whiny. Fluffy hair. Kind of pretty if you squint.”

“I know who he is,” said Bokuto. His lamp-like eyes swiveled to Akaashi. “I didn’t know that he… that you… oh.”

Akaashi’s brow pinched. He wasn’t certain what conclusion Bokuto had drawn, but surely he didn’t think that Akaashi and Oikawa…

Kuroo burst into ugly laughter that drew the attention of everyone within a ten-yard radius. 

“It makes sense, though,” said Bokuto. He spoke in a low voice that was nearly lost amid the sounds pouring out of Kuroo’s mouth. “Oikawa is good-looking, and _you_ … yeah, it… yeah.”

Akaashi kicked Kuroo under the table, hard enough to make his laughter choke off into a groan. 

“I think this is a misunderstanding,” said Akaashi. He slid Kuroo a glare, to ensure he remained quiet, before looking back at Bokuto. “The kiss was an unfortunate accident that I am trying to wipe from my memory. Oikawa and I aren’t together, nor will we ever be. I am not attracted to his brand of contrived self-importance.”

It wasn’t a very polite thing to say, and Akaashi should have already learned his lesson about watching his words. Still, it wasn’t untrue, and he doubted Bokuto would run off to Oikawa and repeat it.

“Oh,” said Bokuto. He seemed to consider that, and then smiled. “Okay then. So… does that mean you’re not inviting him to the movie?”

“I definitely am not.”

Bokuto beamed, but then faltered. “If you wanted to I wouldn’t mind, though. I’m not trying to be mean. If you want him to go-”

“I don’t, Bokuto-san. I have no interest in seeing any sort of movie with Oikawa.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Kuroo, breaking their attention away from one another. “It’s not like I’m a movie connoisseur or anything.”

“If you want to go,” said Bokuto, a touch reluctantly, “then I’m sure-”

“You just said you think this movie is stupid,” said Akaashi flatly. “You’ll spend the entire time making jokes and I’m not putting up with you. Bokuto-san and I will go by ourselves.”

That seemed to improve Bokuto’s mood considerably.

“Alright then,” said Kuroo. He didn’t look very disappointed. He stood with a smirk and reached across the table, dropping a hand on each of their shoulders. “You kids have fun on your date then.” His smirk became unbearably smug as he snatched his trash off of the table and strode away.

Akaashi was unimpressed by the taunt, but the flush on Bokuto’s cheeks indicated that he was a little more bothered.

“Sorry, ‘Kaashi. Kuroo thinks he’s funny.”

Akaashi didn’t know why Bokuto was apologizing. He was very familiar with Kuroo’s antics. “It’s fine, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto looked down at his plate again. “I’m glad you still want to talk to me,” he said after a moment. “I like you, ‘Kaashi.”

“I like you too, Bokuto-san.”

It was a simple statement, yet it made Bokuto glow.

Akaashi felt his own cheeks get a little warm. 

The temperature of the food court must have been higher than usual. 

About halfway through the meal break, amid comfortable conversation and a wealth of Bokuto’s smiles, they were abruptly interrupted by the scrape of a chair and a low curse as the new arrival bumped his knee against the table.

Oikawa didn’t even acknowledge them. His gaze was fixed somewhere across the food court, his face set into an unusually stoic expression. 

After a moment, during which their uninvited guest remained silent, Akaashi said, “I see I wasn’t wrong about that mental breakdown, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa blinked and looked at him, as if only just realizing he was there. Then he pasted a smile onto his face and said, “Good morning, Aka-chan, Boku-chan. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

To the common passerby, that smile probably looked enticingly genuine.

To Akaashi, who’d known Oikawa far too long, it was a badly constructed mask. The edges were too tight, lips peeling away to show too many teeth. His eyes remained a little flat, devoid of the typical scheming gleam.

Oikawa was annoying on the best of days, but Akaashi preferred that to the hollow shell in front of him.

“It’s five o’clock,” said Akaashi. “What’s wrong, Oikawa-san?”

“Nothing at all,” said Oikawa brightly. “I’m great, Aka-chan. Thank you for asking.”

Bokuto smiled, probably a natural response to the grin on Oikawa’s face. Still, Bokuto didn’t seem quite comfortable. Akaashi wondered if he was picking up on Oikawa’s strangeness, too.

Oikawa was still looking into the distance. Akaashi followed his gaze, but there was nothing there. As far as Akaashi could tell, Oikawa was staring at a wall.

He used the same method with Oikawa as he had previously used with Kuroo. He kicked him under the table, and Oikawa yelped.

“What the _hell_ , Akaashi?” snapped Oikawa, folding over to rub at his shin. His glare was narrow and heated and much more authentic than anything that had come before.

“Tell me what’s wrong with you,” said Akaashi, “or I’ll kick you again.”

The heat of Oikawa’s stare flickered and he slumped back in his chair with a sigh.

“It’s bad, Aka-chan,” he said quietly. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if holding himself together. “It’s really bad.”

Akaashi wasn’t certain how much of Oikawa’s response was a performance, but the dread in his voice was unmistakable. 

Instead of prying, Akaashi pushed his empty sushi box aside, rested his elbows on the table, and waited. In the corner of his vision he saw Bokuto fidget, unnerved by the silence.

“You know the security guard?” said Oikawa quietly. “The one I had a date with?”

“I think everyone in this mall knows about your security guard,” said Akaashi. “Please continue.”

Oikawa sighed and seemed to deflate a little. “He bought tickets for us to see a movie this weekend. The new one about aliens, you know which one I mean.”

Akaashi shared a quick look with Bokuto. “And?”

Oikawa suddenly sat up straight and looked at him, eyes dark with desperation. “And I love aliens, Aka-chan. I _love them_. I don’t even know how he knows that! It’s like… like… he’s _perfect_. He’s so perfect that I don’t even know what to do.”

Akaashi’s stare was flat. “That’s your problem?”

“You don’t understand!” said Oikawa. He leaned across the table and seized Akaashi’s hands, squeezing them demonstrate his anguish. “I don’t know if he even likes me that much. What if he gets bored of me? Or what if I get on his nerves and he doesn’t want to see me anymore? What am I going to do?”

Akaashi stared down at his hands, which were still being suffocated by Oikawa’s. Bokuto was staring at them also, his brow folded.

“Oikawa-san,” said Akaashi slowly. He peeled Oikawa’s fingers off of his own and gently pushed Oikawa’s hands back across the table. “If you didn’t scare him away in the beginning then I doubt he’s going anywhere now. You’re actually rather charming underneath all of your bluster and hair products.” 

Oikawa’s eyes went wide. “Charming?” he echoed. “You think I’m charming?”

Akaashi closed his eyes and counted to five. He had to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to say. “Yes, Oikawa-san. You’re quite charming. I’m sure your security guard is enamored by you.”

It wasn’t a lie, really. When he wasn’t irritating Akaashi into murderous daydreams, Oikawa could be a pleasant person. If the security guard had stuck around after the first date then clearly he saw something worthwhile beneath Oikawa’s glossy exterior, too. 

Unless the man only wanted Oikawa for his looks, which Akaashi doubted. Oikawa was a better judge of character than that. 

Akaashi’s eyes were still closed because he couldn’t bear to see the expression on Oikawa’s face. Since he wasn’t looking he was nearly knocked clean out of his chair when Oikawa bowled into him. 

“I always knew you were a nice person deep down!” said Oikawa, squeezing Akaashi around the shoulders. “You’re the best. When Iwa-chan and I get married, you’re going to be my maid of honor.”

Akaashi decided it was best not to comment on that. There was no need to shatter Oikawa’s fleeting happiness.

Oikawa released him and Akaashi felt like he’d been hit by a bus.

“I should go back upstairs,” said Oikawa. “I left Kageyama in the store alone. He’s probably having a meltdown.” Oikawa smiled a little at the thought. “Bye-bye, Aka-chan. Boku-chan.”

He waved as he strutted away, his mood drastically improved.

Akaashi sighed and looked back to Bokuto, who stared after Oikawa with a strange, distant expression.

“Don’t mind him,” said Akaashi. “He acts self-confident but I believe he has some personal insecurities he needs to work through. He’s a decent person overall.”

Bokuto nodded, still looking across the food court. “Yeah, he’s, uh… yeah.” He dragged his gaze back to Akaashi. “Hey, do you think they’re going to see the same movie as us?”

“I’m certain it’s the same film,” said Akaashi, “but the chances of them attending the same show time as us are low.”   
  
  
  
  
Apparently the chances were higher than Akaashi had predicted.

“Aka-chan!” 

The shout was like an ice pick to Akaashi’s eardrums. 

Bokuto cut off mid-sentence and looked around. 

Oikawa strolled toward them, dragging a very reluctant man by the wrist. Everyone in the theater lobby had paused to stare at the source of the shout. 

Akaashi wondered why this was happening to him. He was a _good person_.

“Hello, Oikawa-san,” said Akaashi. His stare was flat. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You didn’t tell me you were coming, Aka-chan,” said Oikawa. He came to a stop in front of them and pouted. His date yanked his hand free. “Even after I told you Iwa-chan was bringing me.”

“Stop calling me that, Trashykawa,” the man muttered. He rubbed roughly at his wrist, as if trying to wipe off Oikawa’s germs.

Akaashi thought maybe he liked the security guard.

“You know you love it, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa with a smug grin. “This is Aka-chan and Boku-chan.”

“Akaashi,” corrected Akaashi. “And this is Bokuto.”

The security guard nodded at the pair of them. “Iwaizumi Hajime. I apologize for Oikawa.”

“There’s no need,” said Akaashi over Oikawa’s protests. “I’m used to him.”

“Rude, Aka-chan! And you were being so nice to me last week!”

“You were less obnoxious last week,” said Akaashi. “It was nice to meet you, Iwaizumi-san, but if you’ll excuse us-”

“No, wait!” said Oikawa. “Since we’re all here, let’s sit together! It can be a double-”

“Goodbye, Oikawa-san,” said Akaashi, raising his voice to cut Oikawa’s sentence short. He walked away without looking back, trusting that Bokuto would follow. 

When he arrived at the counter, Bokuto was only a step behind and Oikawa was nowhere in sight. That was fortunate. 

What was unfortunate was the identity of the man working the snack counter. 

“Akaashi-kun,” said Konoha, his smug grin in place as he propped his elbows on the counter. “Back again, huh?”

“I would like a large popcorn and two sodas,” said Akaashi. “Bokuto-san, would you like anything else?”

Bokuto frowned at the clear glass counter as he pondered. “What about some of those?” he said, pointing. “The rainbow-colored things. Can I get some of those?”

Konoha stared at him. Then he looked back to Akaashi with a smirk. “Popcorn, drinks, and rainbow-colored things. Coming right up, Manager-san.”

Akaashi spent the next few minutes imagining what inconveniences he could place on Konoha during their next shift to make his life as difficult as possible. Those fantasies were only intensified when Konoha slid their food across the counter and said, with a quick wink, “Enjoy the movie. Make good choices.”

Bokuto seemed confused, but Akaashi had to resist the urge to flip Konoha off as they turned to walk toward the theaters.

“I guess that guy works for you?” said Bokuto brightly, easily shaking off Konoha’s strange parting words. 

“Unfortunately.”

“It’s super cool that you’re a manager, ‘Kaashi,” said Bokuto. “Like, you tell people what to do and they have to listen! No one ever listens to me, but maybe one day I’ll be a manager, too.”

Akaashi tried to imagine Bokuto in charge of any establishment and couldn’t quite put together the mental picture. Perhaps he wasn’t giving Bokuto enough credit, or perhaps Bokuto just wasn’t meant for a role of leadership.

“Maybe, Bokuto-san,” he said vaguely.

When they entered the theater he immediately spotted Oikawa. He was chattering away, and it was difficult to discern in the low light, but Iwaizumi didn’t appear particularly invested in whatever he was saying.

Then Iwaizumi slung an arm over Oikawa’s shoulders and ruffled his hair.

Bokuto nudged Akaashi with his elbow and Akaashi quickly looked away from the pair. 

“Wanna sit over there?” said Bokuto, pointing to a spot near the middle of the theater. 

Akaashi judged the distance between those seats and Oikawa. It should be far enough. “Sure, Bokuto-san. Lead the way.”

Bokuto shimmied his way through the row of seats, nearly tripping over a woman’s purse before arriving safely. He collapsed into one seat and grinned as Akaashi sat in the one beside him.

“This is awesome, Akaashi,” he said. It was clearly supposed to be a whisper, but his voice carried. “I can’t believe they gave you free tickets again!”

Akaashi glanced around the theater. There were a number of empty seats scattered about. This film wasn’t nearly as popular as the one they had watched the previous weekend.

“It isn’t that impressive,” said Akaashi. 

“And the free food too,” insisted Bokuto. “You get so much cool stuff! You’re so cool, ‘Kaashi!”

He said it with a degree of earnest intensity that made Akaashi’s face warm. Instead of responding, Akaashi stared straight ahead and waited for the movie to start.

He tried not to look a few rows forward where he could distantly see Oikawa, who still sat with Iwaizumi’s arm wrapped around him.

Akaashi was happy for him. Oikawa deserved to find someone who would take care of him and tolerate his antics. 

Akaashi was happy for him, so he didn’t know why he felt a strange twinge of discontentment.

The lights went down and Bokuto bounced in his seat. “It’s starting!” he hissed unnecessarily. “Are you excited?”

“I’m thrilled.”

Bokuto looked at him. “Hey, ‘Kaashi?” he said, suddenly solemn. “You said you won’t laugh at me, right? If I get scared?” His eyes were wide with genuine concern. 

“Of course not, Bokuto-san. I promise I won’t laugh.”

Bokuto’s anxiety was broken by a smile. The movie started and Bokuto’s full attention was reserved for the screen.

It wasn’t what Akaashi would have considered a horror movie. There was no explicit violence or gut-wrenching gore. The most horrifying thing about the movie was the idea of an alien invasion in general and the subtle, morbid suggestions that the film pushed every few scenes. 

Akaashi supposed that it had been adopted into the horror genre solely based on the number of jump scares.

In general, Akaashi wasn’t surprised by much. Even on the rare occasion that something caught him off-guard, he typically didn’t react to it. He had the necessary mental prowess to detach himself from an alarming situation and analyze it before reacting.

Bokuto clearly did not react to things in the same way as Akaashi.

The first time the screen flashed to something mildly terrifying, Bokuto jumped in his seat so violently that he dumped his popcorn bucket into the floor. He looked down at the mess and then peered over at Akaashi sheepishly, as if expecting to be reprimanded.

Akaashi just sighed and said, “It’s fine, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto perked up a little, but he still looked anxious.

The second time it happened Bokuto slapped a hand over his mouth, probably to stop himself from screaming. 

The third time he didn’t move his hand fast enough and a startled squeak jumped out of his mouth.

The fourth time he reached over and seized Akaashi’s hand, squeezing so tightly that it was almost painful. 

Akaashi didn’t really notice the force with which Bokuto gripped his hand. He was too concerned over the fact that Bokuto was holding his hand at all.

The scene passed and Bokuto breathed a sigh, settling back down into his chair. Bokuto’s fingers loosened and Akaashi expected to be released now that the danger had passed.

But then Bokuto slid his fingers between Akaashi’s and seemed content to leave them that way.

Akaashi stared at their interlaced hands. Then he looked at Bokuto, who still watched the screen with rapt attention. Akaashi opened his mouth to speak, but then something in the film made Bokuto lean forward. His eyes lit up in excitement, the gold muted in the dimness of the theater. The colors from the screen flashed across his face and touched his hair with a strange, fuzzy glow. 

“Did you see that, ‘Kaashi?” said Bokuto. He squeezed Akaashi’s hand lightly, eyes still glued to the screen. 

“Yes,” said Akaashi, though he hadn’t looked away from Bokuto. “I saw.”

Bokuto grinned and it caused a shift in his face that made Akaashi’s stomach flip.

That couldn’t be good.

“Umm, Bokuto-san?” he said quietly, mindful of the crowd around them. “You’re holding my hand.”

“Hmm?” Bokuto leaned closer to him, as if being drawn into his orbit. When he finally looked away from the screen to acknowledge Akaashi, he blinked down at their hands with large eyes. “Oh.” Bokuto took his hand back and let it fall limply into his lap. His bottom lip stuck out a little, perhaps in the beginning of a pout, as he looked back to the screen.

Akaashi should have kept his mouth shut, but he heard himself say, “If you’re scared, then-”

“I’m not scared,” Bokuto insisted. “This movie isn’t even scary. I don’t know what you- _ack_!”

Bokuto nearly leaped out of his seat as the lead actress shrieked. 

Akaashi sighed. He reached over and seized Bokuto’s hand, holding it on the armrest between them. His stomach swooped as Bokuto again slid their fingers together, but it was easy enough to pretend he’d felt nothing.

“You could’ve just said you were scared,” said Bokuto in his not-quite-whisper.

Akaashi’s stare was flat, but Bokuto was too focused on the movie to notice.

The film was drawing to a close, and half an hour later it reached the conclusion. When the credits started rolling, Bokuto slouched back in his seat with a heavy exhale. 

“That was a pretty good movie, huh, ‘Kaashi?” he said. “Not as scary as I thought it would be.”

Akaashi found that difficult to believe considering his fingers had been numb for the past ten minutes as a result of the death grip Bokuto had kept on his hand.

“It was fine,” said Akaashi. He flexed his fingers against Bokuto’s, expecting him to withdraw. 

Bokuto held on.

“Bokuto-san?” said Akaashi. “You’re still holding my hand.”

Slowly, Bokuto threaded his fingers out of Akaashi’s and pulled his hand back. Akaashi curled his fingers to reestablish blood flow. He should have been relieved that he’d reclaimed control of his own body. 

Instead he felt a little bereft. 

“Shall we go?” said Akaashi. He stood and tried to ignore the mountain of popcorn at his feet.

He didn’t have to clean it up, but he still felt a little bad for whoever did.

Unless it was Konoha. In fact, he quite hoped Konoha was on cleaning duty that evening.

They fell into step with the rest of the crowd, Bokuto trailing a half-step behind him. He hadn’t spoken in a few minutes and Akaashi wondered if he was getting into one of his moods again. If so, he couldn’t imagine why. Nothing upsetting had happened.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder. Bokuto’s brow was wrinkled in thought, his lip tucked between his teeth. Akaashi looked at him for a second too long and almost tripped over the short set of stairs that led back to the lobby.

“Careful, ‘Kaashi,” said Bokuto. He touched Akaashi’s elbow to steady him. 

Akaashi said nothing and Bokuto’s hand fell away.

He glanced at the counter automatically as they crossed the lobby, which was a mistake. Konoha caught his eye and winked. Akaashi pretended to scratch the side of his head so he could unobtrusively flip him off. Konoha started laughing and Akaashi suddenly knew who would be cleaning the theater bathrooms the following night.

He and Bokuto exited the lobby and stood somewhat awkwardly outside the doors. The rest of the crowd filtered past, their animated conversations washing over Akaashi like a dull breeze. He didn’t see Oikawa anywhere, for which he was grateful.

“So, Akaashi-”

“Bokuto-san, I-”

They started talking at once, and cut their words into silence in the same instant. Bokuto grinned and Akaashi couldn’t help his own small smile.

“Go ahead, Bokuto-san.”

“I was just going to say, umm…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and teetered on his tiptoes, as if he was about to take flight. His gaze was somewhere to Akaashi’s left. “I, uh… I had a good time. Again. Thanks for bringing me, ‘Kaashi.”

“It was no trouble. I enjoyed myself as well.”

Bokuto lit up. “Maybe we can go out again sometime? To another movie or, like, something else?”

Bokuto’s lip caught between his teeth again. He looked almost nervous, and Akaashi couldn’t fathom why. 

“That would be fine, Bokuto-san.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m going to go. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, yeah,” said Bokuto brightly. “Really soon.” His lantern-like eyes finally moved back to Akaashi. He looked at him for a handful of heartbeats, the golden intensity almost unnerving. His gaze flickered down, lighting on Akaashi’s lips for a split second before he tore his eyes away. “Bye, ‘Kaashi.” He took a hurried step back and headed for the elevators. His face was a little pink.

That last look had been almost suggestive, but Akaashi was clearly reading too much into it. Bokuto was just pleased to have another friend. He was probably a little much for most people to handle, so it was satisfying to find someone like Akaashi who could endure his blinding personality.

“You should’ve kissed him.”

The voice was right by Akaashi’s ear, and if he’d been a lesser man, he would have screamed. Instead he turned a withering glare onto Oikawa, was extremely pleased with himself.

“I know you value your physical appearance,” said Akaashi. “It would be a shame if something happened to your face.”

Oikawa blinked, his smile wavering. “Was that a threat, Aka-chan? You would never hurt me. You _love_ me.”

“I don’t know who told you that, but they were lying.”

“You’re so mean all the time. You’re almost as mean as Iwa-chan.”

“Shut up,” grumbled Iwaizumi. He grabbed Oikawa’s hand and towed him away. “Let’s go.”

“Bye-bye, Aka-chan!” Oikawa sang over his shoulder, still smug. “It’s too bad your date didn’t go as well as mine! Maybe next- Oww, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi dragged him off toward the escalator and Akaashi waited a few minutes before he followed. 

At least this time he hadn’t ended his outing with Bokuto by delivering an extremely rude personal insult. Bokuto had left happy, if a little stranger than usual. 

Akaashi decided not to dwell on that. Bokuto was odd at the best of times. He was reading too much into his behavior. There was nothing different about Bokuto, and there was nothing different about himself.

He hadn’t felt anything strange when Bokuto had held his hand. It had just surprised him. That was all.

Akaashi was an intelligent human being. He wasn’t stupid enough to develop feelings for someone like Bokuto Koutarou, who was incapable of returning them.

He felt nothing for Bokuto.

Akaashi left the mall, still burdened by that strange feeling of discontent.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day was Sunday, which meant Akaashi was stuck on the early shift. He didn’t mind too much. The theater’s definition of early was ten o’clock, which meant he could still catch as much sleep as he did on a typical day.

Konoha’s shift didn’t begin until two o’clock. That gave Akaashi a few hours before he could begin phase one of his plan to make Konoha miserable, but at least it gave him something to look forward to.

Akaashi made his rounds and began the process of getting the theater up and running for the first noon showtime. Typically Yaku was the one assigned to such duties, but since he had been a manager for a longer stretch of time, he was always off on Sundays. Akaashi didn’t mind. He rather enjoyed being at the theater when no one else was there. It was a bit of a relief.

The morning passed by smoothly. Sales were low for the early showings, but that was typical. It gave Akaashi plenty of time to work on inventory and catch up several things that he’d procrastinated the week before.

Konoha walked into the theater just as Akaashi was walking out to take his meal break. Akaashi smiled at him, and it was razor-sharp.

Konoha’s face went blank. He came to a solid halt and watched Akaashi pass by, dread edging into his expression.

Akaashi couldn’t wait until his break was over.

Kuroo was already in the food court when Akaashi arrived. He must have been working an early shift, too. Kuroo wasn’t alone at his table, and Akaashi’s first thought was that Bokuto was with him.

It wasn’t Bokuto, and Akaashi was _not_ disappointed.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi,” said Kuroo as Akaashi joined them. Kuroo’s face was more smug than usual and Akaashi already knew he was going to be unbearable.

“Hello, Kuroo-san.”

“You know Sawamura?”

Akaashi looked up at their tablemate, who appeared extremely unimpressed by Kuroo in general.

“Vaguely. Good to see you, Sawamura-san.”

“You too, Akaashi.”

Sawamura worked at the sports store on the second floor. It was a good fit for him, if his physique was any indication.

Bokuto would have fit in well there, too. 

“Sawamura plays volleyball,” said Kuroo, smirking at him across the table. “I was just telling him that I used to play in high school. I think I’m probably better than him. What do you think, Akaashi?”

Akaashi broke his chopsticks apart with a _snap_. “I think it must be exhausting to carry around such a heavy ego.”

Sawamura snorted and Kuroo looked utterly betrayed.

“He’s not wrong,” said Sawamura with a shrug. “You think pretty highly of yourself, Kuroo.”

Kuroo turned his smug smile back on and propped his chin in his hand. “You’d think highly of me too if you got to know me better, Sawamura.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Sawamura flatly. He pushed his chair back and stood. “I need to get back to the store. Nice to see you, Akaashi. Later, Kuroo.”

Akaashi nodded at him, and Kuroo continued to grin after him until he was out of sight. Then the smug façade cracked and he dropped his head onto his forearms.

“Why do I sound so stupid when I talk?”

“Perhaps because pretending to be something you’re not is a little stupid.”

“I’m not pretending,” said Kuroo. He raised his head just enough to peek up at Akaashi. “I’m awesome.”

“Whatever you say, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo sighed and sat back in his chair. His food was only half-eaten but he didn’t seem interested in finishing it. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst wingman ever?”

Akaashi paused with a piece of sushi halfway to his mouth. “Please tell me that was not your idea of flirting.”

“It was good! I’m charming.”

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Whatever. The only way he could resist me is if he’s straight.” A shadow flickered across Kuroo’s face. “Hey, you don’t think he’s straight, do you?”

Akaashi considered as he chewed. “Honestly, yes. He seems quite straight to me.”

Kuroo looked disappointed, but that quickly sharpened into narrow speculation. “Wait. Your gay-dar sucks, though. You thought I was straight for three months.”

Akaashi shrugged. “I was half right.”

“Doesn’t count.” Kuroo leaned his elbows on the table and stared at him. “Okay then. What about Bokuto?”

Akaashi’s chopsticks slipped a little in his grip. “What about him?”

“What’s your gay-dar say about him?”

Akaashi frowned down at his food. “Obviously he’s straight, Kuroo-san.”

“Then obviously I’ve still got a chance with Sawamura,” said Kuroo, “because you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Kuroo stood, grabbed his half-empty plate, and slipped into the maze of tables.

Akaashi stared after him, baffled.

It sounded a lot like Kuroo had just implied that Bokuto wasn’t straight.

Surely Akaashi had misunderstood. Bokuto had shown no indication whatsoever that he was interested in men. Unless Akaashi counted the handholding, and he most definitely did not.

Now that he was thinking about it, Bokuto hadn’t done anything to suggest that he was interested in women, either. 

Akaashi focused on his food and tried not to think about it. It didn’t matter either way. Bokuto’s sexual preference was of no consequence to him.

It was of no consequence, yet Akaashi couldn’t stop thinking about it during the entirety of his lunch hour. 

  
  
  
  
  
That afternoon, business was slow in the third-floor theater. 

Akaashi spent half an hour selling tickets alongside Shibayama, one of the new hires. There weren’t enough customers to justify his presence for very long and he went to work behind the snack counter instead. Technically that was Konoha’s duty for the day, but Akaashi sent him off with a list of urgent tasks to attend to. The most pressing of those tasks was scrubbing the urinals in the men’s bathroom.

Konoha sulked but grudgingly obeyed. The “Manager” tag attached to Akaashi’s shirt left him no room for arguments.

Akaashi scooped out a bucketful of popcorn and smiled to himself.

Maybe next time he came to see a movie with Bokuto, Konoha would keep his mouth shut.

Akaashi realized that he was already making subconscious future plans with Bokuto. That probably wasn’t in his best interest. In fact, it was best for him to stop thinking about it completely.

He turned back toward the counter to deliver the popcorn to the customer and nearly dropped it when he found a set of gleaming golden eyes watching him.

Akaashi’s heart skipped a beat. He told himself it was only because he’d been startled.

He calmly passed the bucket across the counter to the waiting customer with a quiet, “Thank you”. Luckily she’d been the only one in line. He started toward Bokuto, who leaned on the counter a short distance away. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi!” said Bokuto brightly. 

The greeting was a triple “Hey” instead of his usual double. Bokuto must have been quite excited.

“Hello, Bokuto-san. Are you seeing a movie?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I came to talk to you!”

Akaashi glanced around. There was a small group of teenagers heading toward the exit, a couple nestled close in the small sitting area across the room, and a handful of kids rushing toward the adjoining arcade.

“It’s quite busy,” said Akaashi flatly, “but I suppose I can spare a moment.”

Bokuto looked over his shoulder, eyes wide with concern. They narrowed when he turned back to Akaashi. “But there’s practically nobody here. Are you really… Wait, was that a joke? Did you just make a _joke_ , Akaashi?”

Akaashi’s face didn’t change. “Are you on your break, Bokuto-san?”

“No, I’m off today!” he said with a grin. “I have to work extra long tomorrow so they let me skip today instead.”

He seemed happy about that, though Akaashi couldn’t imagine why. He wondered why Bokuto was even at the mall on his day off. When Akaashi wasn’t working he avoided the entire building like the plague. Bokuto had said he’d come to talk to Akaashi, but that couldn’t have been the only reason that he’d made the trip.

“How long do you have to work?” said Bokuto, leaning forward a little more. 

“I leave at six.”

Bokuto looked enthused. “That’s only an hour!”

“I suppose so.”

“Do you maybe want to go get dinner?” said Bokuto. “If you don’t already have plans, I mean. Or if you even want to.”

Akaashi hadn’t exactly planned to eat cheap mall food for two meals in a row, but he supposed he could stomach it. “Sure, Bokuto-san. Would you like to meet in the food court?”

“Oh, uh… I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere else,” said Bokuto. He glanced away from Akaashi, suddenly very interested in the candy selection. “There’s a couple of good restaurants across the street, or down in that shopping center near the train station.”

Akaashi stared at him. His heart was beating a little too quickly and he pretended not to notice. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought Bokuto was asking him on a date. That was what these types of invitations usually entailed, but maybe Akaashi was misinterpreting. Bokuto wasn’t asking him out. They’d gone to a couple of movies and eaten together several times, but that was it. They were only friends. Friends could go to dinner, too.

Although he was fairly certain that Kuroo would have never asked him out to dinner, not like this. 

The faint flush tinting Bokuto’s cheeks was making the situation more difficult to read.

Clearly Akaashi was thinking too hard about this. Bokuto wasn’t interested in him. He couldn’t be. As he’d told Kuroo, it was glaringly obvious that Bokuto was not interested in men.

Kuroo, however, had seemed markedly unimpressed with that answer.

Akaashi supposed there was only one way to find out for sure.

“Bokuto-san, are you attracted to men?”

Bokuto’s chin had been propped up on his hand. At the question his arm slipped and he almost fell forward onto the counter. He managed to catch himself and stood upright, the blush flaming to his ears. He looked around the theater, which was still largely vacant.

“I, uh… well, I… C’mon, Akaashi, did you have to say it like _that_?”

“How else would I say it?”

Bokuto hunched over, rested his elbows on the counter, and hid his burning face in his hands. “Yeah, I, uh… yeah, _of course_ , ‘Kaashi. Why else would I… Wait.” He peeked between his fingers. “You like guys too, right? Kuroo said so, and then there was the thing with Oikawa, but you’re so hard to read! Half the time I don’t know if you actually want to hang out with me or if you’re just being nice.”

“I never do anything just to be nice,” said Akaashi. He twisted his fingers together in front of him, rubbing absently at his knuckles. “And yes, I’m gay. I didn’t expect that you were as well. You don’t seem the type.”

Bokuto tilted his head. “If you thought I was straight then why did you go out with me? We held hands and everything.”

Akaashi tried and failed to think of something intelligent to say. “Those were supposed to be dates?”

Bokuto buried his face again with a groan. “It’s because I didn’t pay for the snacks, right? A real date would’ve paid anyway, even if you could get it for free.”

Akaashi stared at the small sliver of Bokuto’s face that was visible. His skin was still pink from embarrassment. 

They’d been on two dates already and Akaashi hadn’t even known.

Both of them were idiots.

Akaashi bit down on a laugh and cleared his throat. “Bokuto-san, would you like to meet me out front at six? We can walk over to one of those restaurants.”

Bokuto’s head whipped up. “You want to go?”

“If you would still like to.”

“Of course I would!” said Bokuto. His excitement wavered and he asked, “Do you just want to go as friends? Or can it be an actual date? If you don’t want to then that’s fine too, I just-”

“It can be a date,” said Akaashi. His voice was smooth, but his stomach twisted in a lurch of nerves. “I would like that.”

Bokuto’s smile was brilliant. “Awesome! Okay, I’ll be back here in an hour and we can go. I’ve got to go find Kuroo. I’ll see you soon, Akaashi!” He dashed out of the theater, pausing at the door to wave back toward the counter before he ducked out of sight.

Akaashi wasn’t certain exactly what he’d gotten himself into, but he did know that he didn’t regret it.

He turned away from the door and found Konoha watching him from the other end of the counter, a bucket of cleaning supplies dangling from his hand. Konoha didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The smug grin on his face was enough.

“Get the women’s room next,” said Akaashi. “A young lady said she was sick in there a little while ago.”

Konoha groaned and his expression crumbled.

Akaashi smiled. 

  
  
  
  
  
Akaashi realized, during the hour of waiting for his shift to end, that he’d never even seen Bokuto outside the shopping mall.

He wondered if leaving the safety of the familiar environment would be awkward. Maybe once they’d abandoned their comfort zone they would no longer have anything to talk about. The mall – and Kuroo, who was part of the mall – was really the only thing they had in common. Otherwise Akaashi was just a student and Bokuto was just someone he never would have met if their employment circumstances hadn’t drawn them together.

He worried it would be awkward, but he severely underestimated Bokuto Koutarou.

“This place is really nice, huh, ‘Kaashi?” said Bokuto, his head swiveling back and forth as he studied the inside of the restaurant. 

It was decent, but wasn’t spectacular. Bokuto just seemed to be easily impressed.

It was rather fortunate that his random choice had brought them to an establishment where the customers were dressed casually. Akaashi may have been capable of blending into a more prestigious restaurant in the black pants and button-up that he’d worn for work. Bokuto, however, was dressed in ripped jeans and those expensive, tacky shoes that he probably hadn’t taken off since he’d gotten them. Just looking at them made Akaashi’s brain bleed, so he looked at Bokuto’s face instead.

“So, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi, recapturing his attention. “Since this is a date you should tell me about yourself.”

Bokuto immediately forgot his interest in the restaurant and launched into a brief yet wordy description of his life. He told Akaashi where he’d gone to high school, where he’d been accepted into college, and about the two years that he’d pushed through it before deciding that quitting might be his best option. He talked about his parents and his sisters and a family dog. He talked about meeting Kuroo in high school, and about how they’d played volleyball together and become best friends and had been roommates for the past two years. 

He talked until their food was delivered, and Akaashi soaked in every word.

“Oh,” said Bokuto, staring down at his plate. “I think I talked too much. Sorry, ‘Kaashi.”

“It’s fine. I asked, after all.”

“What about you?” said Bokuto, looking up at him eagerly. “Tell me about you, too!”

Akaashi sifted through his bowl. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m not very exciting, Bokuto-san.”

“That’s not true! You’re super cool, Akaashi!”

Akaashi doubted that, but it was kind of Bokuto to say so.

“You already know I’m in school,” said Akaashi, very aware of Bokuto’s eyes on him, “and that I work. I don’t have much contact with my parents. They pay my tuition, I check in with them once a month, and we try to stay out of each other’s way. We’ve had some disagreements.” By ‘disagreements’ he meant that his parents had threatened to disown him from the family, but he didn’t want to go into that. It wasn’t first-date conversation. “There isn’t much else to know about me.”

Bokuto slurped up some noodles and said, through a mouthful, “There’s a lot to know about you, ‘Kaashi. Tell me something else.”

The idle conversation continued as they ate, covering innocent topics such as Akaashi’s favorite books and Bokuto’s favorite volleyball teams. 

It was nice, and Akaashi discovered, when the meal came to an end, that he was slightly disappointed that it was over.

The waiter dropped off the check and Bokuto grabbed at it before Akaashi even blinked.

“I’ve got it!” announced Bokuto, fidgeting in his seat to get to his wallet. 

“That isn’t necessary, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi. “I can split the bill with you.”

“No way. I’ve been trying to buy you something forever.” Bokuto slipped some yen behind the receipt and placed it on the table. “I got my first paycheck, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean that you need to waste it on my dinner.”

Bokuto looked absolutely offended. “Don’t say that, ‘Kaashi. You’re worth way more than dinner. Money spent on you would never be wasted.”

Akaashi pretended he wasn’t flustered by the compliment. He also pretended that his face didn’t feel a little warm.

Bokuto either didn’t notice or expertly ignored it. Probably the former.

“Ready to go, ‘Kaashi?” 

“Sure, Bokuto-san,” he said, though he didn’t really mean it. He wasn’t quite ready for the dinner to be over. 

Apparently Bokuto shared that feeling. “Hey, so uh… do you maybe want to go for a walk? There’s a park just a couple blocks away and they have a pond and ducks and stuff. Only if you want to. If you don’t, that’s okay. It’s kind of late anyway, we can just leave if you want.”

Akaashi checked the time. It was only seven-thirty.

“I would like that, Bokuto-san.”

“Really?”

Akaashi sighed. “Didn’t I already tell you that I don’t say things I don’t mean?”

“Well yeah, but I was just making sure you didn’t change your mind. About wanting to go out with me.”

“If I change my mind you will be the first to know.”

Bokuto lit up. “Okay! One of the ducks had baby ducks a couple of weeks ago. They’re so cute. You’ll love them, ‘Kaashi!”

Akaashi followed him with a small smile. It was strange spending time with someone this excitable. He tended to seek out people with calm demeanors that matched his own. Now he couldn’t help but feel that his tendency to avoid high-level extraverts may have been a mistake.

Bokuto’s personality was a little exhausting, but Akaashi couldn’t deny that it was also charming.

  
  
  
  
  
Akaashi didn’t work the next day, and consequently did not see Bokuto. He did, however, receive a steady stream of texts throughout the day detailing all of the relevant happenings at the shoe store. Akaashi didn’t know if Bokuto was allowed to use his phone while on the clock or if he was sneaking off to do it when no one was paying attention. He worried it was the latter, but that didn’t stop him from returning the texts. He enjoyed talking to Bokuto, even if simple written words failed to convey the energy that always bubbled in Bokuto’s voice. 

When Tuesday came, Akaashi was back to his regular shift. He arrived at the theater around noon and took his meal break at four-thirty. He wasn’t as eager for the break as he should have been. Bokuto wasn’t working that day, so Akaashi knew they wouldn’t cross paths at the food court. 

He collected his food, took a quick inventory of the tables, and spotted Kuroo and Oikawa sitting together a short distance away. Akaashi headed toward them automatically. It had become habit for him to sit with Kuroo, and Kuroo’s friends by extension. He didn’t think anything of it until Kuroo noticed him.

The grin that spread across Kuroo’s face was the most smug thing Akaashi had ever seen.

He stopped walking. Suddenly sitting by himself at a center table didn’t seem so unfavorable.

Oikawa looked over his shoulder, following Kuroo’s stare, and waved widely at Akaashi.

He took a deep breath, braced himself, and joined the pair.

“Hey, hey, ‘Kaashi,” said Kuroo through that maddening grin.

Akaashi didn’t react to the abbreviation of his name. He wondered if Kuroo was saying it like that on purpose or if he’d subconsciously picked up the habit from Bokuto. If the latter was true, Akaashi wondered just how often Bokuto talked about him for the shortened address to get stuck in Kuroo’s head.

“Hello, Kuroo-san.”

“Aka-chan,” said Oikawa. His smile was a little smaller, but still somewhat smug. “We were just talking about you.”

Akaashi looked back and forth between the two of them. Then he picked up his food and moved to leave the table.

Kuroo’s hand plopped onto his shoulder and coaxed him back down. “Don’t be that way, ‘Kaashi. We were only saying good things about you. Right, Oikawa?”

“Of course. We would never speak badly of you. Even if you always speak badly of us.”

Akaashi slid a glare toward him, but didn’t take the bait. He decided to focus on his food rather than the complacent grins on either side of him.

“So…” said Kuroo, dragging out the word. “Bo told me your date went well the other day.”

It wasn’t a question, so Akaashi didn’t respond.

“He said you’re a pretty bad kisser, though,” said Kuroo. “You need to work on that.”

Akaashi gripped his chopsticks so tightly that it was a little painful. The glare he slid toward Kuroo was murderous. “That is not true.”

Kuroo’s grin didn’t waver. “How do you know?”

“I did not kiss Bokuto-san. If I had, he certainly would not have had any complaints.”

Oikawa propped his chin in his hand. “I don’t know,” he mused. “To be completely honest, I think you could use some improvement.”

Akaashi’s narrowed eyes sliced toward him. “I didn’t kiss you, Oikawa-san. You caught me off-guard.”

“So if I’d warned you beforehand you would have done better?”

“If you’d warned me I would have sprinted away from you.”

Oikawa feigned a wince. “So cruel, Aka-chan.”

“Bo said you didn’t kiss,” said Kuroo with a shrug, “but I didn’t know if it was true or if he was just embarrassed to talk about it.”

Akaashi took a bite of his sushi and said nothing.

“So why didn’t you?” said Kuroo, leaning closer. “Kiss him, I mean. He said he thought the date went okay. Did he do something wrong?”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s none of your business.” Akaashi took another bite and pointedly ignored Kuroo’s pout.

He’d spent the past day and a half wondering if he’d made a mistake by not initiating a kiss at the end of the date. The walk through the park had been nice. They’d held hands, and Bokuto had told him all of the names he’d made up for the ducklings, and they’d wandered around the neat path for nearly an hour because neither of them had wanted to leave.

A kiss would have been a perfect way to end the evening, but Bokuto hadn’t leaned in for one, so Akaashi hadn’t, either.

“If you’re worried about your kissing skills,” said Oikawa, “I can give you some tips.”

Akaashi’s flat stare was answer enough.

“It’s a miracle you realized Bo was trying to date you,” said Kuroo. “I guess expecting you to kiss him on the third date is just asking for too much.”

“Do you ever get tired of inviting yourself into other people’s business?” said Akaashi. 

“If my best friend is involved,” said Kuroo, “then it’s my business by default.”

“That isn’t how it works.”

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa nodded in agreement. “My best friends’ romantic lives are definitely my business. My coworkers’ romantic lives are too, for that matter.”

“So really,” said Kuroo, as if some point had been proven. “Why didn’t you kiss him?”

“I suppose it was for the same reason that he didn’t kiss me.”

Kuroo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You were afraid that he’d reject you and never speak to you again?”

Akaashi stared at him. A bite of sushi was halfway to his mouth but that statement had completely drawn his attention away from food. 

“Did Bokuto say that?” 

“Dude, you’ve been dating him for a week and didn’t even know it. If it was me, I’d be afraid to kiss you, too.”

Akaashi frowned down at his sushi and wondered what Bokuto must think of him. Did Akaashi come off as unapproachable or intimidating? He didn’t mind if anyone else saw him that way, but he didn’t want Bokuto to think of him like that.

“Bo and I have movie night at our place every Thursday,” said Kuroo. He sat back in his seat, still studying Akaashi. “You should come hang out with us.”

Oikawa cleared his throat. “What about me?”

“Yeah, you’re not invited,” said Kuroo. “You’ll just talk about your security guard all night.”

“That’s not true!”

“It’s literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the past month.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“I’ll pass,” said Akaashi. “I’m not going to intrude on your movie night.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “You’re not intruding. I’m inviting you.” He grinned again. “Bo would be happy if you came over.”

“Or he would feel that my presence was an invasion of his privacy.”

Kuroo was unamused. “Really, ‘Kaashi? You’ve met him, right?”

Akaashi sighed. “If Bokuto-san invites me then I will consider it.”

Kuroo whipped out his phone. “You can expect that invitation in about fifteen seconds.”

“What about me?” Oikawa said again. “I won’t talk about Iwa-chan, I swear!”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Tetsu-chan!”

Akaashi took another bite of sushi and tried to tune them out.

He wondered if he should look for new friends.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! I forgot to update this on Saturday, and I wouldn't have remembered at all if someone hadn't reminded me. (Thanks Anna!)
> 
> This is the last chapter of the Bokuaka installment, but the Iwaoi follow-up will begin soon! I'll try to post the first chapter the first Saturday of next month like usual ~~if I remember~~. It will be a separate fic, so if you want to follow those updates you'll have to subscribe to the series rather than this individual story.
> 
> Thank you guys so much! I hope you enjoy it. <3

Akaashi didn’t tend to get nervous. The most antsy he’d gotten recently was at the conclusion of the previous semester, when he’d had to sit through an important exam that he probably should have spent more time studying for.

He’d gotten a high passing grade without a problem, but he could have done better.

When he arrived at Kuroo and Bokuto’s apartment, he wasn’t nervous. He attributed the twisting flutter in his stomach to hunger. Kuroo had promised an endless supply of pizza and popcorn, so he hadn’t bothered eating dinner.

He rapped his knuckles against the door, and when it opened, his senses were indeed assaulted by the warm smell of greasy food. 

His stomach flipped, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought it was a result of Bokuto grinning at him.

But Akaashi didn’t get nervous, so it must have just been the smell of the food.

“Hey, hey, ‘Kaashi!” said Bokuto. He stepped back to let Akaashi inside. “Come on in! The pizza just got here. Kuroo was making popcorn but he burned it.”

“I did not!” Kuroo turned to glare at them over his shoulder. “It’s not burnt. It’s perfect.”

“It’s black, Kuroo.”

“You’re being dramatic, Bo.”

“We’re not giving Akaashi burnt food,” said Bokuto. He stomped forward, grabbed the bag of popcorn out of Kuroo’s hands, and threw it in the garbage can. 

Kuroo squawked, offended, but Bokuto ignored him. “Have some pizza, ‘Kaashi! I didn’t know what you liked so I ordered three different kinds.”

Akaashi looked past him. There were three pizza boxes stacked on the counter behind a sulking Kuroo. “That wasn’t necessary, Bokuto-san.”

“Sure it was! If you don’t like any of these I can order more.”

“You could’ve just asked him what kind he wanted,” muttered Kuroo, “like a normal person.”

“Shut up, Kuroo.”

Akaashi chose a couple of slices, stacked them on the paper plate that Bokuto pushed into his hand, and started toward the couch. 

The apartment was fairly small. The kitchen and living room was combined into one area, there was a bathroom against the far wall, and he assumed that the two other doors led to bedrooms. It was about what he had expected, except for the level of cleanliness. It was much tidier than he’d thought it would be. He wondered if he’d underestimated the two of them or if they’d cleaned up a little before he’d arrived.

He didn’t realize, until he’d sat on one end of the couch, that it wasn’t just the three of them. In the corner, sitting with his back against the wall and his face buried in a handheld video game, was Kozume. Akaashi had met him once or twice before. He only knew that he was Kuroo’s friend and that he worked at the video game store in the mall.

“Hello, Kozume-san.”

Kozume didn’t even look up. “Hi.”

“Don’t mind him,” said Kuroo. He plopped down in the middle of the couch, right beside Akaashi. “He’s just pouting because his boyfriend isn’t coming over for movie night.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

Kuroo looked like he intended to argue further, but suddenly Bokuto loomed over him, looking rather intimidating for someone with a mouthful of pizza. 

“Move over.”

Kuroo put his plate on his lap and folded his arms. “No. I’m comfortable right here.”

“Dude, move over. I want to sit beside ‘Kaashi.”

“Maybe I want to sit beside him, too.”

“No, you don’t. Move over or I’ll make you move.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, but scooted to the far end of the couch at a snail pace. Bokuto happily dropped into the empty space and shoved another half-slice of pizza into his mouth. He rammed his elbow into Kuroo’s ribs and said, “Gimme the remote. ‘Kaashi gets to pick.”

“That’s okay, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi. “We can watch whatever you’d like.”

“No way! You’re our guest, you get to pick.”

“You never let me pick,” said Kozume from the corner.

“That’s because you’re not a guest!” said Bokuto. “And because you have really bad taste in movies.”

Kozume slid him a glare and slowly rose from his corner. “I’m leaving anyway.”

“C’mon, Kenma,” said Kuroo. “You can help Akaashi choose the movie.”

“I’m going to Shoyou’s,” mumbled Kozume as he stepped past the couch. “You’re too loud.”

“Your little ray of sunshine is louder than me and Bo will ever be.”

“But he’s less annoying.”

Kuroo gave an overly dramatic gasp. “Kenma. How could you?”

He was easily ignored. Kozume offered Akaashi a quick nod and then he was out the door.

Bokuto reached over Kuroo for the remote and passed it to Akaashi. It was a little greasy from Bokuto’s fingers. 

“Here, ‘Kaashi. Pick whatever you want.”

Akaashi sighed, but did so without argument. He scrolled through the options until he found something he imagined Bokuto would enjoy. When he made the selection, he knew he’d chosen correctly.

“Hell yeah!” said Bokuto through a mouthful of cheese. “This is one of our favorites! Me and Kuroo saw it at the theater last year!”

Akaashi sat back on the couch, wiped his greasy fingers off on the leg of his jeans, and settled in to watch the movie.

He’d never seen it, but it played out as he’d expected. There were a lot of gunfights and dramatic dialogue and tough, emotionless male leads. It seemed rather cliché to him, but Bokuto and Kuroo seemed to be enjoying themselves.

About an hour into the movie Kuroo stretched his arms overhead and tossed a sidelong glance at the two of them. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll turn in for the night.” 

“It’s eight o’clock,” said Akaashi flatly.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got an early class,” said Kuroo as he heaved himself off the couch. He crossed in front of the television and leaned against one of the bedroom doorways. “It was good to see you, ‘Kaashi. You guys have fun.” He tossed Bokuto a wink that was probably supposed to be subtle before disappearing into his room.

Akaashi expected Bokuto to say something about Kuroo’s tactlessly abrupt departure, perhaps an eye roll or even an amused grin.

Instead Bokuto sank further back into the couch, his gaze falling down somewhere around his knees rather than the TV screen. His hands were tucked under his thighs, his head was down, and there was a touch of pink dusting his cheeks.

He looked _shy_.

Akaashi stared at him, deaf to the sounds of screaming and gunfire in the background. He remembered Bokuto’s behavior from their trip to the movie theater, when he’d shamelessly held Akaashi’s hand. He remembered when he’d given Bokuto tickets to the movie and had loudly been asked to accompany him. Even when Bokuto had stopped by to see Akaashi at work and had asked him out, there had been no hesitation, and certainly no indication of self-consciousness.

Akaashi wondered what had changed. Perhaps sometime in the last two minutes Bokuto had decided that he didn’t want Akaashi there after all and didn’t know how to tell him.

Or perhaps he _really_ wanted Akaashi there and didn’t know how to tell him that, either.

Akaashi supposed that the primary difference between those past interactions and this one was that during the other times, the two of them had been in public; at Bokuto’s store, in the theater, at the restaurant. There were always other people around.

Maybe now that they were truly alone, Bokuto didn’t know how to proceed. But unless Akaashi was reading him incorrectly – which wasn’t likely – Bokuto did want to proceed.

Akaashi shifted closer, just barely, testing to see if he could get a reaction.

Bokuto didn’t move.

The edge of Akaashi’s mouth lifted in a slight smile. He moved a little closer and casually dropped his hand onto Bokuto’s knee.

That worked.

Bokuto jolted like he’d been shocked, flashing a quick glance at Akaashi before determinedly looking at the TV screen. Someone had been shot, and the female lead was sobbing over their bloody body.

Akaashi leaned closer, his shoulder brushing Bokuto’s. There was a hot twist in Akaashi’s stomach, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought it was nerves.

But Akaashi didn’t get nervous, so it must have been something else.

He swallowed down the sudden flutter in his chest and said, quietly, “Bokuto-san?”

Slowly, Bokuto turned his head. His eyes were wider than usual, fixed on Akaashi with visible tension. “Yeah?”

Akaashi felt the flutter again, more strongly this time, his heart skipping at an abnormal rhythm.

Maybe he was a little nervous, after all.

There was no reason to be. This was Bokuto. He didn’t have to be nervous around Bokuto.

Akaashi braced himself and said, voice steady, “I would like to kiss you. Would that be alright?”

Bokuto’s eyes widened impossibly further. “Yeah, you… I mean, I… umm, yeah. Yeah, that would be good.”

Akaashi’s smile grew, but it was fleeting. It faded away as he leaned close, the warmth of Bokuto’s breath ghosting over his cheek.

That flipping sensation hit him again, a sharp lurch in his gut. He glanced down at Bokuto’s mouth, mentally braced himself, and pressed closer to kiss him. 

He expected Bokuto to be too eager, perhaps to the point of pushiness. Instead, Bokuto kissed him back softly, chapped lips slow and careful. There was a gentle touch at Akaashi’s temple, and Bokuto gingerly threaded his fingers into Akaashi’s hair and tilted his head, fitting their lips together more firmly.

Bokuto’s breath was hot, intoxicating. It made Akaashi feel warm; too warm, like flames were kindling beneath his skin. 

Akaashi had been kissed, but never quite like this.

“Hell yeah! Get it, Bo!”

They broke apart, Bokuto flailing backward so fast that he nearly toppled off the couch. He looked around, startled, until he found Kuroo leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, smirking.

“Kuroo, you jerk!” shouted Bokuto, flinging himself away from the couch. He was across the room in two seconds flat, but Kuroo was faster. 

He darted back inside and slammed the door, Bokuto’s shoulder thumping against it uselessly. 

“Get back out here!” said Bokuto, slamming his fist against the door. 

“I would, but I don’t want to ruin your date!” said Kuroo, his voice muffled.

“You already did!” said Bokuto. He kicked the door and then abruptly turned away, the scowl falling off his face when he looked at Akaashi. “I’m so sorry, ‘Kaashi.”

The apology was unnecessary. Akaashi was smiling; he couldn’t help it.

“That’s quite all right, Bokuto-san,” he said. He stood and glanced idly about the apartment before stepping toward Bokuto. “Perhaps we could go into your room instead. For some privacy.”

Bokuto went still. If it hadn’t been for the flaming redness of his cheeks, he could have been a statue. “My room?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” said Akaashi. “If you’re not, then we can just-”

“No,” said Bokuto. “I mean, yeah. I’m, uh… I’m comfortable with it. It’s right over here. We can just, uh…”

He trailed off, looking between Akaashi and the bedroom door across from Kuroo’s. He looked like he was going to short-circuit, but he still managed to reach out and take Akaashi’s hand.

Akaashi’s fingers were a little longer, but they wove through Bokuto’s perfectly. Bokuto smiled at him, a little bashful but entirely genuine, and tugged Akaashi along into his room.

Unlike the neatness of the common area, this was what Akaashi had been expecting. There was clothing scattered about, a haphazard display of high school sports trophies arranged on a shelf, and a messy stack of books in the corner that looked as if they were left over from Bokuto’s aborted college career.

Bokuto seemed to be a little apprehensive as Akaashi looked around, but there was no need. Everything about the space, mess and all, felt so very Bokuto that Akaashi couldn’t help but smile.

He was doing too much of that. He was afraid it was going to become a habit.

“Can we sit down?” asked Akaashi, nodding toward Bokuto’s bed. The sheets were rumpled, but at least he’d made the effort to tidy up. A bundle of pillows were stacked messily at one end, a closed laptop perched at the other. 

Bokuto let go of Akaashi’s hand to move the computer, relocating it to a cluttered desk across the room. When he returned he sat on the edge of the bed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looked up at Akaashi.

Akaashi studied him, just long enough for Bokuto to fidget beneath the scrutiny. He moved forward, placed his hands on Bokuto’s shoulders, and straddled him to sit on his lap. His knees pressed close on either side of Bokuto’s hips, his hands smoothing along firm muscle, up the length of Bokuto’s neck, and stopping to cradle both sides of Bokuto’s jaw. He brushed his thumbs over Bokuto’s cheekbones and watched a fresh blush rise beneath the touch.

Akaashi was too tall for this, but he hunched over a bit and made it work. He kissed Bokuto softly, still cradling his face, exhaling in a soft gust as strong hands curled around his hips.

Akaashi’s stomach swooped as Bokuto’s tongue flicked against his lips. He reciprocated, melting into the sensation of Bokuto’s tongue curling around his. 

Bokuto’s hand slid up, fingers searching, trailing across the warm skin just beneath Akaashi’s shirt. Akaashi shivered, exhaled into Bokuto’s mouth, and shifted his weight forward until Bokuto was on his back with Akaashi hovering over him, still connected by the hot press of their lips.

Bokuto rolled, shifting Akaashi onto his side. They stayed like that, chest to chest, legs tangled together. Their kisses were slow yet hot, eager yet subdued. 

Akaashi’s hand found its way beneath Bokuto’s shirt and he allowed it to rest there, grazing over the ridges of his muscled torso, drawing small, twitching shudders when the touches became too light.

At some point the kissing stopped, fading away into a comfortable, mutual quiet. A few minutes passed before Akaashi opened his eyes, basking in the haze that draped over his mind like soft lace, coupled with the warmth of Bokuto’s body soaking into his own. 

Bokuto stared back, his gaze soft, eyes such a pure gold that they almost glowed.

“Umm,” he started. “If you want to, uh… if you want to do _something else_ , we can. Just if you want to. We don’t have to, I don’t know if I even-”

“I’m perfectly content right here, Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi. He smoothed his fingers down Bokuto’s arm, brushed them over his wrist, and interlaced their fingers. 

Bokuto breathed a sigh that tasted of relief. “Okay,” he said, his smile softer than usual. “Me too. Not that I don’t want to, you know, but… I just like being with you, you know? Just like this.”

Affection buzzed in Akaashi’s blood, warm and sweet. “I like being with you too, Bokuto-san.” 

“So, uh,” started Bokuto. His gaze flickered away, a touch of color burning in his cheeks again. It was barely noticeable in the low light; the sun had almost gone down, only the faint glow of dusk slanting through the single window. “Do you want to date? Like, officially? I don’t want to go out with anyone else. But if you don’t want to be exclusive I guess that’s okay. I want you to be happy, too, so I-”

“Bokuto-san,” said Akaashi, cutting him short before he could begin rambling. “I have no desire to date anyone else. I’m quite certain keeping up with you is going to require all of my energy. I’ll have nothing left to spare for a second boyfriend.”

Bokuto smiled, his eyes brightening. “So you want to be my boyfriend?”

The first reply that came to Akaashi’s mind was mildly sarcastic, which was unsurprising. That was an integral part of his personality, and Bokuto didn’t seem bothered by it.

Still, this wasn’t the time for his snarky attitude to slip through.

“Yes,” he said, pressing close for another kiss. “I would like to be your boyfriend.”

 

 

 

Akaashi had dated before. The occurrences had been brief, and he’d wasted very little time or effort on any of them. His partners had always been a secondary entity in his life, existing alongside him but not really _with_ him.

Dating Bokuto was different, and it required much more dedication.

Akaashi was crouched down behind the counter, rearranging the candy display, when Konoha rounded the corner and came to a dead stop.

“Uh, Akaashi?”

“Yes?”

Konoha paused, then pointed toward the floor. “What are _those_?”

Akaashi didn’t bother following the gesture. He knew Konoha was referring to the outlandish eyesores on his feet.

Akaashi rose from his crouch and stared at Konoha, his face flat. “I just remembered the bathrooms need recleaning. You should get on that, Konoha-san, since it seems you have nothing better to do.”

“I literally just got here!” said Konoha. “I haven’t had time to do anything!”

“Bathrooms,” repeated Akaashi. He grabbed a handful of candy and knelt again, adding the boxes to the display. “If you don’t go now I’ll assume that’s not enough work for you and add to the list.”

Konoha made a sound of utter exasperation before trudging away. 

Akaashi continued stocking, ignoring the first hint of warmth heating his face.

The shoes were suspiciously similar to the ones that Bokuto had bought when he’d first started his job. Bokuto had gotten them for Akaashi as a gift a week before, to mark their first month of dating.

Akaashi had told him they were hideous, and Bokuto had been so disappointed that Akaashi had worn the appalling things anyway. 

The shoes were disgusting, but they were surprisingly comfortable, and Akaashi was beginning to realize that he would do just about anything to make Bokuto happy.

It was a strange epiphany. Akaashi had never felt the need to inconvenience himself for another person before.

He finished up the display, helped Konoha finish cleaning the bathrooms in a rare moment of pity, and then left the theater to take his lunch break

He no longer had to wonder if Bokuto would be waiting for him. He’d learned Bokuto’s schedule by heart, and Bokuto had done the same for him.

He got his usual box of sushi, turned to survey the tables, and easily picked Bokuto out of the crowd. He was sitting near the edge of the food court with Kuroo, and he absolutely glowed when he saw Akaashi approaching.

“’Kaashi!” he said, so loudly that his voice carried amid the drone of overlapping conversations. He waved, which was unnecessary, and pulled out the chair beside him in invitation.

Akaashi placed his food on the table and sat, sliding Bokuto a small smile. “Hello, Bokuto-san. How is your day?”

“Better now,” said Bokuto with a grin. “Hey, you got the sashimi again! Can I have one? I’ll trade you half of my onigiri.”

“Sure.”

While Bokuto made the trade, Akaashi glanced over at Kuroo, who hadn’t even reacted to his arrival.

“Hello, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo mumbled something, tapped at his phone screen, and finally looked up to acknowledge him properly. “Oh. Hey, Akaashi. What’s up?”

Akaashi just stared at him.

“Kuroo finally got Sawamura’s number,” said Bokuto, his mouth full of sashimi. “He’s been harassing him all day.”

“Shut up, Bo! I’m not harassing him. We’re having a deep, meaningful conversation.”

Bokuto reached across the table and snatched his phone out of his hand. Kuroo lunged for it but Bokuto had already leaned back, holding it out of reach.

“Sawamura said he wants to be a personal trainer,” said Bokuto, his eyes stuck to the screen as he batted away Kuroo’s hands. Akaashi scooted his chair away from the scuffle and scooped up another bite of sushi. “And you said, ‘ _That’s awesome, dude. If you ever need to practice just hit me up. You can train me anytime_.’ With a winking face.”

When Bokuto looked away from the phone his face was flat, the expression more reminiscent of Akaashi than himself. “I’m so disappointed in you right now, Kuroo.”

Akaashi snorted. He took another bite to keep from laughing.

Kuroo snatched his phone back and glared at both of them. “I’m flirting, you idiot. I’m not surprised you don’t know since you suck at it.”

“If I suck at flirting then how am I dating the most perfect guy in the world?” said Bokuto. It was snapped back with a touch of defensiveness. He stated it as fact rather than shaping it as a compliment, and that made it even more flattering. 

“Clearly there’s something seriously wrong with him,” said Kuroo. “No offense, Akaashi.”

“None taken,” said Akaashi. “I don’t expect someone like yourself to understand Bokuto’s particular brand of charm.”

Kuroo sat back with a huff as Bokuto laughed.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a dick?” said Kuroo.

“Frequently,” said Akaashi. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pain in the ass?”

“Only you.”

“I only say it when you deserve it,” said Akaashi. “Which, to be fair, is most of the time.”

Bokuto laughed again, so loudly that Akaashi almost winced. Then Bokuto leaned close and pressed a quick kiss against his temple. “You’re the best, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi took a bite of the onigiri, hoping Kuroo wouldn’t comment on the sudden pinkness of his cheeks.

“You guys suck,” said Kuroo. He shoved his phone in his pocket and stood. “I’m going to find Oikawa. He’s better company than you two lovebirds.”

Bokuto gasped, much too dramatically. “Dude. You don’t mean that.”

“I daresay Oikawa-san is too busy with his own love life to care about your sad attempts at flirting, Kuroo-san,” said Akaashi.

“I’m charming!” said Kuroo, so loudly that several people at nearby tables glanced over. “Sawamura won’t be able to resist me. I’m charming and handsome and hilarious!”

“Did your mother tell you that?” said Akaashi.

Kuroo opened his mouth to snap back a response, failed to think of one, and settled with a glare. He turned on his heel to storm away and almost walked directly into Sawamura, who’d just risen from a nearby table.

Kuroo stared at him too long, his face blank. He was doing an impressive job of maintaining his composure.

Sawamura said, “Charming and handsome, huh?”

Kuroo’s face caught fire. He turned and walked away without a word, nearly tripping over a chair. 

Sawamura watched him go with an amused smile. He nodded at Bokuto and Akaashi before wandering off in the opposite direction that Kuroo had gone.

Bokuto started cackling, loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the general proximity. 

Akaashi smiled. Bokuto’s laughter made him feel warm, like bonfires on autumn nights and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

Bokuto made him feel a lot of things that he’d never felt before.

He reached for Bokuto’s hand and slipped their fingers together, smiling more widely at the surprise on Bokuto’s face. 

Akaashi wasn’t much for public displays of affection. Bokuto understood that, and he was very respectful of it.

Still, on the rare occasion that Akaashi stepped outside his comfort zone like this, Bokuto was ecstatic.

Bokuto squeezed his hand gently and grinned. “Hey, you want to come over tonight? Kuroo will be there, but he’s going to be staring at his phone so much that he probably won’t even speak to us.”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

Bokuto’s grin widened. He scooted his chair just a little closer, his knee bumping against Akaashi’s. He was wearing those hideous shoes, the ones that were almost identical to the ones he’d gotten for Akaashi.

Akaashi felt he wouldn’t trade the gifted shoes for anything.

“I really like you, ‘Kaashi,” said Bokuto, keeping his voice low. His eyes were bright, focused so entirely on Akaashi that it was as if there was no one else in the entire mall.

Akaashi was certain that he didn’t just like Bokuto, but what came beyond that was a confession that he wasn’t yet confident enough to make. It would come in time, because Akaashi intended to stay close to Bokuto for a long while. 

“I really like you too, Bokuto-san,” he said, leaning in to leave a quick peck against Bokuto’s lips.

Bokuto smiled as if he’d been given the entire world.

Akaashi was fairly certain that on the day he’d met Bokuto, the world had been handed to him on a golden platter. 

Akaashi Keiji was a good person, but he wasn’t sure how he’d been good enough to deserve someone like Bokuto.


End file.
